Careless Benevolence
by Imorgen
Summary: Sequel to The Emissary. Can the Doctor, Melissa and Jack accept a gift bestowed by the Bad Wolf? And what are the consequences if they do? Jack/OC/Doctor
1. Impossible Things

Author's Notes - If you've read The Emissary, welcome back! I hope you enjoy the sequel, Careless Benevolence. It's still a work in progress, and I'd love to hear your opinions. Just a reminder that this went completely AU after Journey's End.

The usual disclaimers apply. I'm doing this for fun, definitely don't own the characters, not making any money on this, and no infringement is intended. And, any dialogue you recognize from the Bad Wolf is from _Parting of the Ways._

If you're not familiar with The Emissary, you might want to read it before you start this story. I know; it's really long and the beginning is bulky. Feel free to skim. If you're still determined to read a sequel before the original, you at least need to know that Melissa (or Emma as the Doctor likes to call her), a Time Lord, is the Doctor's wife and Susan Foreman's grandmother. Through some very convoluted plot points, she and Jack Harkness married while she appeared human under the chameleon arch. The three managed to break the time lock and save Gallifrey from destruction. This is the aftermath.

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><p><em>The Bad Wolf appeared just as she had on the Gamestation, her figure that of a familiar young woman, but her eyes filled with unimaginable power. As the guards made move to restrain her, she held up her hand, freezing them and Romana to the spot. "You are tiny."<em>

_"Rose, don't do this!" The Doctor pleaded, hoping that she would listen this time. When she looked at him quizzically, he added softly, "It's over. Jack's gone. Just let him go."_

_Ignoring him, she addressed the crowd, who was immobile with shock. "I can see all of time and the whole of creation, what was, what is and what could be."_

_Then, she looked sorrowfully at the Doctor. "And this is why it hurt. I want you, safe, My Doctor, protected from the false gods."_

_Terrified at what she may yet do, he spoke gently, trying to reason with her. "I am safe, Rose. I am safe here with the Emissary, and safe with you on the parallel Earth. You loved me so much, you saved me twice. Now, just let it go."_

_"How can I let go of this?"_

_The Bad Wolf swung her gaze to Melissa, tears falling down her face. "My Emissary. His pawn." Then, she again looked mournfully at Jack. "My knight. His sacrifice. But it should not hurt."_

_That simple statement sent chills down the Doctor's spine. What was an immature, benevolent god truly capable of? He could feel Melissa's terror bubbling to the surface as they felt the Bad Wolf focus her attention on the three of them._

_"I bring life."_

_"Rose, NO!" the Doctor yelled, supporting his bond mate as her knees buckled. He watched in dismay as the powerful being continued placidly as if he had never interrupted._

_"And everlasting death to the Doctor's most faithful companion."_

_Then, she was gone. The entire assembly looked in stunned amazement at the spot where the Bad Wolf had stood before breaking out in raucous murmurings. Simultaneously, Captain Jack Harkness gasped back to life, sitting up and looking around in confusion._

_As he caught the Doctor's eyes, he asked in consternation, "Someone going to tell me why I'm on a bier?"_

"Not now, Captain!"

Still gripping Melissa by the waist, the Doctor yanked Jack off the bier and urgently pulled the two towards the TARDIS. Luckily, his ship was parked near the Panopticon, and everyone was still too stunned by what they had witnessed to attempt to stop them. Not that the Doctor had any intention of letting them; it was imperative that they escape before anyone on the High Council understood what had just happened.

Letting go of Jack's hand, he pulled out his key, noting with some surprise that his hands were trembling too much to put it in the lock. Jack deftly took the key out of his useless fingers and opened the doors. Sweeping Melissa inside, the Doctor passed her wordlessly off to the Captain as he quickly took the ship into the Time Vortex.

Once they were relatively safe and he was sure no one was tracking them, he turned his attention to his bond mate. She was shaking violently, her green eyes glazed in shock.

"She- I don't- How could- I mean- Jack?" She was on the verge of hysteria, and it was easy for the Doctor to take over.

"Tests!" he exclaimed loudly pacing around the console. "Definitely time for some tests. Not every day a god brings you back to life, after all, even for you Jack. We should do some tests."

While the Captain started protesting that he felt fine, the Doctor grabbed Melissa and whispered soothingly in her ear. "We'll do some tests. Figure things out. Come with me."

Gently, he led her down the corridor, Jack trailing worriedly behind. When they reached the infirmary, he laid her on the bed, his fingers finding the sides of her face. Easing her into a deep sleep, he continued searching her mind until he found what he had hoped he would not. Lovingly, he kissed her forehead, his emotions tightly in check. He led Jack wordlessly out into the hallway, where he firmly shut the door.

Searching his friend's face, Jack was unexpectedly nervous. The Doctor looked like he wanted to kill something or someone. "So, Doc, you going to explain what's going on?"

The Time Lord stared at him, his eyes bleak and cold. Slowly, he unleashed a torrent of curses that astounded the Captain in their creativeness, although he thought that a being would have to be gelatinous for at least one of them to apply. Not content with the cursing, his friend let loose a string of expletives in more languages than even a former Time Agent could possibly comprehend, although he understood the gist when the Doctor finished heatedly. "Why the hell couldn't the Bad Wolf leave well enough alone?"

For a second, the Captain stared at him in dismay before putting on a self-deprecating smile and commenting wryly, "So I guess you're not too pleased that she brought me back, huh?"

Staring blankly at his companion for a second, the Doctor closed the distance between them with two swift strides. Cupping Jack's face, he kissed him harshly on the lips before releasing him and taking a small step backwards.

His voice cracking, he commanded severely. "Don't, just don't. When I saw you, lying there next to Rassilon's tomb, actually dead this time, I—"

Unable to complete his sentence, he took a deep breath, getting his emotions under control so he could explain. Flatly, he stated, "It's not you I'm upset about, Jack; it's Emma. She's pregnant."

Stunned by the Doctor's kiss, Jack felt like he was missing something important, and raced to catch up. When he understood what his friend had said, his face broke out into a wide grin. "That's fantastic! Congratulations, Doc!"

But the Doctor didn't smile in response, and Jack's grin slowly turned into a frown. Anxiously, he asked, "Is it the bond? Will it hurt her or the baby, being bonded to both of us?" He had been reassured when he had felt the link, but now he was uneasy.

He didn't answer the question. Instead, he stated with no emotion whatsoever, "I didn't get her pregnant."

Now he was completely confused. "The night we left? But why would she want . . . ?"

"You didn't either, Captain."

His rage was so near the surface that he was likely to take it out on the people he cared about. He took another deep breath, trying to calm down before looking Jack in the eyes, willing him to comprehend.

Finally, when it was clear that his friend had no idea what he was saying, he deflated, leaning against the wall in defeat. "She said, I bring life," he admitted bitterly, hoping he wouldn't have to explain further.

"I don't understand." But, his stomach knotted. There was a part of him that understood all too well.

"Don't you?" Irrationally, he wanted to make Jack hurt on some level just so he could share some of the pain.

Blanching, he begged, "Explain it to me, please. I want to help her."

"I wish I could explain it." Staring off in the distance, he added sorrowfully, "She's in bad shape, Jack. What she did in Rassilon's tomb severely damaged her temporal lobe. A wristwatch and calendar aren't going to help this time. Regenerating is the only way to heal her mind."

"She can regenerate?" Again, the Captain felt behind the curve.

"Yes, we both can. The healers gave us a whole new set, but it doesn't matter. It's impossible for her until afterwards."

"Regenerating will kill the baby?"

"Regenerating will kill them both," the Time Lord stated gravely, knowing it was time to move the discussion to a room with chairs. This was going to take a while. "Come on, Captain. The TARDIS will let us know when she wakes up. Let's go into the kitchen. I bet you could use something to eat."

It took the Doctor over an hour to explain Time Lord biology and reproduction to Jack, and by that time, the Captain wasn't very hungry. In some cases ignorance was bliss. It was fortunate that Melissa hadn't shared some things with him during her pregnancy with Joy, or he wouldn't have let her outside of the Hub.

Drinking some water because his stomach just couldn't handle the thought of coffee at the moment, Jack sat wearily in his chair, wondering why he was so tired after having spent several days as a corpse. In fact, he was surprised to find his eyelids getting heavy. He wasn't used to feeling sleepy so soon after a resurrection.

The whine of the sonic screwdriver brought his senses back into sharp focus. "So what's the verdict, Doc? What impossible thing have I become this time?" He smiled cheekily at the Time Lord to let him know that whatever the Bad Wolf had done to him, it would be okay.

But the Doctor put his elbows on the table and rested his head in his hand, rubbing his forehead for a few seconds before looking somberly at his friend. "I wish it were something impossible this time, Jack, but today she gave you everlasting death."

"What?" Images of Owen flashed through his mind, and he fought to maintain his composure. "Are you saying I'm a walking corpse?"

His question brought an ironic smile to his friend's drawn face. "No more so than any other human, Captain." Rushing to explain, he added quietly. "She cured you, Jack. You're no longer a fixed point in time. The next time you die, you won't come back."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

In the end, it wasn't necessary for the TARDIS to alert the Doctor and Jack of Melissa's waking. The burst of broiling anger they felt exploding into their consciousness was more than enough to alert them to her awareness. Although rushing from opposite ends of the ship, they arrived at the infirmary together. Carefully opening the door, the Doctor ducked as she hurled a piece of obsolete medical equipment at the now broken mirror on the opposite wall.

"No, no, no, no, no!" she shouted incoherently as she finally acknowledged their presence. "She can't do this! I'm not some sort of toy for the Bad Wolf to play with! Haven't I suffered enough?"

She was still ranting at them when her complexion turned sickly green and she raced to the trash can, vomiting spectacularly.

The Doctor knelt beside her. "Stop blocking us, Em. It's only making you sick. Open your mind to us so we can help you."

"I don't want any help," she answered miserably, but she allowed the Doctor to help her stand. Then, she finally acknowledged Jack's presence. "Don't make me do this," she begged.

"I don't think you have much choice, Sweetheart."

That statement made her temper flare. "I have a choice! I can get rid of it!"

The Doctor answered calmly before Jack could react. "That's true; you can do that if you wish, and no one's going to stop you. But, you need to decide now, before your hormone levels are too high. Do you want to kill the baby or not?"

"Don't call it that! It's just a bunch of foreign cells growing inside me. I didn't ask for this!"

Again, she was sick, and her limbs were shaking by the time the Doctor sat her on the bed. He and Jack sat on either side of her, silently offering their support.

She looked venomously at the Time Lord. "I hate you."

He didn't reply except to put his hand on her shoulder. When she didn't shrug it off, Jack put his hand on her other shoulder, and she immediately leaned against him, sobbing uncontrollably for several minutes before she could speak.

"I have to decide now?"

Somberly, the Doctor nodded. "It will be too dangerous later, Em."

The desolation they heard in her voice made both men cringe. "Athena, Matthew, Susan, Joy—they're all dead. I don't want to feel that agony ever again. It's bad enough remembering." Her mouth twisted into a pained frown as she struggled with her decision. "But I don't know what to do." Her emotions careened from anger to despair to resignedness to anger once again.

When neither one of them proposed a solution, she curled up into a tight ball, sniffling as she tried to control her emotions well enough to think rationally. They offered her silent support, trying to pour sympathy and acceptance into her, but her mind was shut tight. After a while, she straightened, her decision made.

"No matter what I decide, you promise me you'll both stay? No running away?"

Glancing at the Doctor, Jack answered for both of them. "We promise, Sweetheart. We both love you, and nothing's going to change that."

Remorsefully she confessed, "I can't do it. I just can't. I can't kill them. It's not their fault."

As she leaned wearily against Jack, he mouthed over her head, "Them?"

The Doctor nodded, as surprised as the Captain had been. "Em, no matter what happens, we'll both be here for you."

"Good, because I'm going to be sick again." Her stomach roiled, and it was all they could do to get out of the way. By the time she had finished, a cold sweat dampened her skin.

"Let's get you some tea, eh?"

Helping her stand, the Doctor kissed her briefly before handing her to Jack. Silently, he thanked his ship; the kitchen was suddenly across the hall from the infirmary. Boiling the water for the tea, he tried to think sensibly about their problem, but his mind was in turmoil. Instead, he watched her for signs of lingering nausea.

Putting the sweet ginger tea in front of her, he handed Jack a cup of coffee, and then put a tin of biscuits on the table. The three of them drank quietly, too overwhelmed to say much of anything. As Melissa stared absently into her empty cup, Jack reached over to push her hair behind her ear. Startled, she looked up, seeing him as if for the first time.

"You were dead."

Her voice was too anguished for him to try to make a joke of it. "I know. I'm sorry I hurt you."

Tears ran unchecked down her face. "I killed you."

"Sweetheart, no. Don't do this to yourself. You weren't responsible. And, I'd do it again to keep you safe."

Her emotions swinging wildly, she confessed between gasping sobs. "I killed you. I could feel you slipping away and I didn't stop it. I couldn't stop it. When you were gone it hurt so bad I didn't want to feel anything ever again. You were gone, Jack. You were gone and it hurt worse than when Hart took you so far away. It was like someone had cut out one of my hearts, and it hurt, and I don't want to feel that way again."

Pushing her chair away, she wrapped her arms tightly around him, clinging to him as she cried. Choking up, he gripped her just as tightly, the implications of his new mortality just beginning to sink in. In all probability, he would hurt her again, much sooner than she knew. What had she said once? Humans don't live for very long.

Looking sympathetically at them both, the Doctor noticed the instant Jack understood what the Bad Wolf's gift would do to the woman he loved. Placing his hand on the Captain's shoulder, he gave him a small shake of the head. It wasn't time to burden her with that knowledge yet. In this case, the damage to her temporal lobe was a blessing. She was unable to perceive that Jack was no longer a fixed point.

"Why don't you two get some rest? I've got some thinking to do."

She grabbed his arm before he could take a step. "You promised you wouldn't run away."

"I'm not," he argued until he saw the set look on her face. He saw Jack's grin of amusement and stifled a long-suffering sigh. "What do you want me to do, Em?"

"Come to bed with us. I need you both."

It was a command, not a request, and he wasn't sure if she was testing his resolve or was truly that insecure. It didn't matter; either way she needed him. Beating back his sense of unease, he spoke as congenially as he could. "I can do that. 'Course I can."

"Hey, Doc, you won't believe how long I've been waiting to hear you say that!"

Flushing, the Doctor began to babble wildly about the history of tea, until he realized that Jack had been valiantly trying to lighten Melissa's mood. As they walked into his bedroom, he squeezed his friend's arm in silent thanks. It hadn't worked; she still had tears running down her face, but it had been a good effort. Self-consciously, the Doctor removed his tie, stripping the rest of his clothes quickly before he could lose his nerve.

"I should have guessed you'd go commando, Doc. That suit's too tight for much else."

"Oi!" Turning around, he noticed that Jack was already naked, standing around with the confidence of the fully clothed. For a second, he envied his friend's nonchalance, and then he did his best to match it. "Guessed, Captain? And here I am thinking your powers of observation were better than that."

Whatever witty reply Jack would have given was drowned out by Melissa's snorts, which quickly turned into howling laughter. At first they were concerned, afraid she had gone into hysterics, but then they got the distinct impression she was laughing at them. Even Jack seemed disconcerted by that fact.

"What?"

Wiping her eyes, she tried her best to calm down. "When I said go to bed, I meant to sleep!

Both men looked somewhat embarrassed by their mistake. "Yes, well, I know I've got my jimjams somewhere around here."

The Doctor forgot all about his pajamas when Melissa hastily clapped her hand over her mouth and raced to the toilet. She retched until nothing but yellow bile came out of her mouth, and then she did it some more. Jack pulled her hair back while the Doctor carefully supported her body. By the time it was over, she was barely able to stand. Worn out, she let them both help her to the bed, gratefully taking a few sips of water from a cup the Doctor held while Jack wiped her face with a warm washcloth.

Putting the cup of water down, the Doctor started unbuttoning her shirt. Jack unlaced her boots, pulling them off as gently as he could. She was passive throughout, even when the Doctor undid her trousers, slipping them easily off. Hesitating for only a second, he tugged off her lace panties, deciding that if they were completely nude, she might as well be too.

Settling beside her, Jack pulled the duvet over all three of them, wanting to keep her as warm as possible. As her eyes were beginning to droop, the Doctor broke the silence. "You've got to let us in, Em. You're going to adversely affect your own health if you don't."

"Now?"

Patiently, he answered. "Yes, now. It will only get worse the longer you wait."

They were already touching, he and Jack tentatively seeking entrance against her mental barriers. As soon as he reassured her, they were both transported to a familiar landscape. The waterfall roared in the background, but the stained glass pavilion was shattered, just as it had been in fact. She stood nervously before them, wearing a pair of old, comfortable jeans and her Norwegian sweater zipped up tight. Her running shoes were on, and she was out of breath, leaning heavily against one of the support beams of the destroyed pavilion.

Ignoring the glass that littered the scene, the Doctor walked calmly towards her, Jack following a step behind. When they reached her, they could both see that she had slivers of glass embedded in her face and hands.

Cupping his hand over her cheek, the Doctor willed her injuries away as easily as he changed the setting. "You don't have to punish yourself, Em. No one is angry at you, and none of it is your fault. We'll do this together."

Jack sat down and opened the picnic basket, pulling out bread, cheese and wine. He approved of the Doctor's choice. Celara Six was a pleasant memory the three of them shared. It was twilight, and the moons cast a silvery glow on the white sand beach. Smiling, Jack handed Melissa and the Doctor a glass of wine.

"To new beginnings," he toasted, well aware of the numerous meanings loaded into that simple phrase.

The Doctor quirked an eyebrow at him, but drank to the toast. Melissa stared at both of them for a long moment before tipping back her wineglass and quickly draining it. There was an awkward pause as the three of them just stared at each other, not quite sure what to do or who should take the lead.

Stepping hesitantly forward, Melissa solemnly took Jack's hand and then the Doctor's. "Thank you. I don't know the Bad Wolf's intent, and can't pretend to be pleased by what she's done. But I can't imagine going through it without either one of you. I need you both."

They could feel her sincerity pouring through her words, and both knew it had been difficult for her to admit to needing anything, even them. At that point, she was far from perfect, however. They wrapped their arms around her, overlapping their embraces, and all three felt a soothing comfort disperse gently through their minds.

Encouraged, each of them gradually lowered their defenses, until they were standing completely unguarded. In that instant, there was no shame, no guilt or recriminations; there was simply acceptance. For one precious moment, three became one. There was an ecstasy to their joining, although there was nothing sexual in the encounter.

Their perception shifted, and the bond that Melissa had sometimes perceived as two ropes tied together by a third unraveled to become three ropes woven into a braid. It was strong and beautiful, but more importantly, it was profoundly true. All three marveled at the shifting dynamic, and even the Doctor approved of the transformation.

They separated slowly, eventually coming to rest in their own minds. Cracking open his eyes, Jack saw that Melissa's coloring had improved significantly. Her eyes were shut tightly, however, as she struggled in vain to accept the gift that the Bad Wolf had bestowed. Catching the Doctor's eye, Jack telegraphed his intentions very clearly, and his friend gave a small nod in agreement. Mental synthesis was all well and good, but they were corporeal beings, and touch was just as important. It was time to prove to her that neither one of them was going to run away.

As Jack trailed his fingers down her neck, Melissa automatically turned towards him, eyes still firmly shut. The kiss he gave her was so intoxicating that it took her a while to realize that he didn't possess two mouths and someone else's teeth were gently rasping against her right earlobe. Her eyes flew open.

Knowing what protest she was about to make, the Doctor whispered into her ear. "It's fine. This is about you, not me."

She let her eyes close once again, coming to understanding very quickly that it was, indeed, all about her. Afterwards, she was awed and humbled by the devotion of the two men she loved. Cocooned between them, she quickly fell asleep.

Jack was careful not to even glance in the Doctor's direction for fear that the Time Lord would suddenly be overcome by embarrassment and feel the need to flee. He never saw, therefore, the look of affection on the Doctor's face as he watched the Captain slowly drift to sleep. When both his bond mates were resting comfortably, the Doctor reluctantly left. There was much to think about, and the TARDIS couldn't stay in the Vortex forever.


	2. The Last Place the Doctor Wishes to Go

Author's Notes - Thanks to TheOnyxRose for reviewing. I hope the rest of you like the direction the story's taken; it sure would be a relief to know, one way or the other. I'm not sure that I explained something well enough in this chapter, so I just wanted to explain how time and Gallifrey work in my mind. (I have a hazy recollection that it was addressed in one of the episodes 30-40 years ago, but it's been a long time, and it's just easier to make it up as I go along.) Time Lords can travel in time anywhere in the universe, except for Gallifrey, where Rassilon put some safeguards in place so they couldn't. He was paranoid enough that he wanted to ensure no Time Lord could go back and change what he had done. So, to keep everything in sync, if a Time Lord spends 24 hours away from Gallifrey, no matter if he's on the Game Station in the year 200,100 or watching a Shakespearan play in Elizabethan England, when he returns to Gallifrey, 24 hours will have passed. However, that safeguard only works for this universe, not another. (Well, Rassilon may have been conniving and paranoid in these stories, but he wasn't all knowing.) so, now that it's as clear as mud, on to the latest chapter.

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><p>"Why is Jack still sleeping?"<p>

Handing the Doctor a cup of tea, Melissa sat on the jump seat in the console room, her legs tucked underneath her. There were dark circles under her eyes, but she wasn't nauseated, merely bored.

"It hasn't been that long," he answered, hating how easily the lie left his lips.

"Oh. What are we going to do when he wakes up?"

She was looking at him with such simple trust that he had to briefly look away. He hadn't come up with any plan that would fool the High Council into thinking she had been pregnant before the Bad Wolf had appeared. Mostly, he had spent the last fifteen hours worrying about the fact that she had said 'them' in reference to the pregnancy. Gallifreyans didn't carry multiples; it was just too difficult for the mother. Why couldn't the Bad Wolf have left well enough alone?

"We'll go back to Cardiff. Maybe Donna will have some insight I don't."

"If they find out, will they take the babies?"

Well, that was an improvement. Sixteen hours age, she was calling them a bunch of foreign cells. Although, he tried to caution himself that foreign cells was an accurate description. She had not chosen this, and neither he nor Jack had consented. They assumed that the Bad Wolf had combined Emma's DNA with his and Jack's to create two embryos, but in truth, none of them could be sure at this point.

He answered with as much optimism as he could muster. "We won't let them find out."

His answer hadn't been all that reassuring, and he could feel her anxiety from across the console. Before he could say anything else, she abruptly changed topics. "Is it dinner time?"

"No," he answered automatically before giving her a warm smile. "But pregnant Time Lords carrying twins get to eat whenever they like. Why don't you wake up Jack and I'll set the coordinates. You can pick the restaurant."

Practically running, she left eagerly, leaving the Doctor unsure as to whether she was that pleased to be able to wake Jack or simply anticipating a hot meal. In truth, she was looking forward to both. Lying down behind her husband, she gently shook him awake.

Unaccustomed to sleeping for such a long period, Jack woke up surprisingly groggy. It took him a few moments to remember why he was sleeping in the Doctor's bed. When it all came rushing back, he turned around and kissed his wife senseless.

She surprised them both with her urgent response, pushing him on his back while she quickly shed her clothes. He was more than willing, and set a pace that rapidly sent them both over the edge. Satisfied, she lay contentedly on his chest until her growling stomach reminded her of the other thing she was looking forward to.

"Can we get dressed now? I'm ravenous."

Grinning, he stroked her hair. "Ravenous is an apt description."

Still on top of him, she playfully slapped his arm. "I'm just happy to see you." Then, she became serious. "I know it's selfish, but I'm glad she brought you back. I just wish she could have stopped there."

"I know, Sweetheart."

Unwillingly, she followed him into the Doctor's shower, where they managed to clean themselves without engaging in any other activities. By the time they appeared in the console room, the TARDIS had already materialized on the Plass. Stepping out first, the Doctor noticed that they had attracted quite the crowd.

All of Torchwood was standing in a solemn double line, along with Rhys, Donna, Brax, Drocina, Sarah Jane, Wilf and the Brigadier. Immediately, the Doctor understood that his ship had timed it so that they had arrived in Cardiff before the High Council had had a chance to make contact with anyone on Earth—clever girl. But, this also meant that everyone standing in front of him thought Jack was dead. He managed a manic smile and a cheerful, "Oh, you are going to be surprised," before the Captain and Melissa walked arm in arm out of the ship.

Stunned, the individual reactions ranged from a disbelieving, "Oh my God," from Martha, to a "you have got to be kidding me," from Donna, to Gwen's emotion-filled utterance of Jack's name. The man in question only had eyes for Ianto, who approached him unsteadily, raising his arm as if to touch him and then self-consciously letting it fall to his side.

"Donna told me you were really dead this time."

The words were phrased as an accusation, but his voice made it a mournful confession. Impulsively, Jack stepped forward to embrace him in a tight hug.

"I was. Rose brought me back again."

"Well, it looks like she finally did it properly, Agent. Since you're no longer a fixed point in time, might I hazard to guess that my brother and his bond mate will be leaving you here when they depart?"

Almost every pair of eyes swung to Braxiatel as he dropped two rather spectacular bombshells, so only the Doctor and Jack noticed the effect it had on Melissa. Horrified, she blanched before clamping her hand over her mouth and rushing into the TARDIS. Jack would have chased after her, but the Doctor put his hand on his shoulder.

Quietly, he said, "I'll go. We'll catch up to you later." Louder, he directed his attention to Donna. "You mind giving me a hand with some TARDIS maintenance? I think pushing through the time lock might have put the vortex loop control out of sync. The ride here was bumpier than usual."

She stared at him with her mouth open for just a second before snapping it shut. If the vortex loop control had really been out of sync, they never would have made it to Cardiff, and he knew it. "Sure thing, Doctor."

Following him inside, she watched him latch the deadbolt on the inner door. Even with a key, no one would be accessing the TARDIS now unless the Doctor wanted them to.

"You gonna tell me what's going on, Spaceman?"

Relieved to be able to confide his own fears to a friend he trusted completely, he leaned despairingly against one of the coral struts of his ship. "Emma's pregnant with twins, and before you go blaming me, let me assure you that I had nothing to do with it. The Bad Wolf decided to bring life in a rather reckless manner. And, if the Council figures out the timing of the pregnancy, they'll probably harvest the fetuses for testing no matter that it will most likely kill her in the process."

Becoming increasingly bitter, he added, "And, as if that weren't enough, her temporal lobe is too damaged to see that Jack is no longer a fact, but of course, my brother took care of that little problem for us."

At his brusque explanation, Donna approached and lightly touched her hands to his face. Gaining permission, she perused his recent memories, her anger at Rassilon and the Bad Wolf spiking as she saw exactly what had happened to her friends over the past few days. Giving the Doctor a compassionate hug, she marched out of the console room and down the hall. Racing to catch up, he followed her into Melissa's room. His bond mate was hunched over the toilet, vomiting the tea that she had drunk a few hours ago. Noticing Donna, she immediately started to cry.

"Out, Doctor. Wait for us in the kitchen, and there better be tea and biscuits ready when we get there."

It was comforting to have Donna bossing him around, and the Time Lord gratefully left Melissa with his best mate. No doubt she would appreciate some solace from a woman; there were certain things that he and Jack did not fully comprehend, no matter how closely their minds were linked. And, if they were very, very lucky, Donna may just see a solution to some of the problems they were facing. He was the first to admit that she saw the world in ways he couldn't.

Handing Melissa a towel so she could wipe her face, Donna carefully helped her to stand. Trembling, the Time Lord managed to wash up and rinse out her mouth before lying on the bed in an exhausted heap.

"He told you?"

"Yeah. How you feeling?"

"Like I was raped all over again."

She winced, but she wasn't at all surprised. "I can't even imagine," she said sympathetically. "He told me there were two. You know, it'd be a lot safer to terminate."

"Not going to happen," she mumbled, refusing to look at Donna. "It's not the babies' fault."

Patting her back, Donna took a deep breath, hoping that she would be forgiven for playing devil's advocate. "They're hardly babies yet, Melissa. No one would blame you for putting your own health first. You didn't ask for this, and there's still time to do something about it."

"No." Her reply was firm, but she didn't give another reason, and gathering her courage, Donna pressed on.

"Well, if you really want to be pregnant, why not—"

"I do not **want** to be pregnant! How can you even think such a thing? I lost Susan and Matthew and it still hurts! I watched Joy grow weaker and weaker and didn't do a thing to stop it! I watched my eldest die twice! My children are dead, and I don't want to hurt like that again!"

Finally getting to the crux of the matter, Donna gently asked, "Then why are you going through with it?"

Bursting into tears, Melissa sobbed into her pillow as Donna patted her back. "It's okay, sweetheart, just say it. Sometimes it helps to talk."

"NO!"

Donna knew better than to press further. She hadn't known Melissa that long, but with the Doctor's memories, she knew that tone very well. She wasn't going to open up anytime soon. With a sigh, she patted her back.

"I'm sorry you had to find out about Jack from the Doctor's brother."

That brought on a fresh wave of tears. "Oh, god, Donna, what am I going to do? He's not a fact anymore, and he's going to get into some dangerous situation and forget and step in front of a bullet and die. He'll die and won't come back and the bond'll break again, only it'll hurt worse this time, and I just can't go through that, not when it's going to hurt the Doctor as much as it hurts me. He's the only reason I stayed sane last time."

"Hey, don't go getting worked up about something that hasn't happened yet. A mortal Jack is better than no Jack, isn't he?"

Sitting up, Melissa nodded reluctantly. She was glad to have him back.

Seeing her friend gain some equilibrium, Donna smiled. "C'mon Spacegirl, the tea's getting cold, and we have to convince your stubborn bond mate that he has to take you to the last place he probably wants to go."

Bemused, she let Donna lead her to the kitchen where the Doctor was pacing anxiously around the small table.

"We were going to tell you, Em. Just not quite like that. I'm sorry."

"I believe you. You know, Brax also announced to Torchwood that we're bonded. So much for keeping things simple. They're all going to assume-"

"The truth," the Doctor remarked blithely, surprised at how unaffected he felt. You, me and Jack, together. Thought we sorted that hours ago?"

Rolling her eyes, Donna poured them all a cup of tea. "Seems to me, you have a lot to get sorted, Doctor. I think the most pressing issue right now is to decide how quickly you're going to Pete's World."

"WHAT?"

"Oi, you are thick, Spaceman! Think! The High Council has to believe she was pregnant before you went to Gallifrey. You can't just hop in the TARDIS, spend two months on Barcelona and show up tomorrow with Melissa's stomach sticking out like she's got a football in it. You could fool Torchwood with that, but not the High Council. You know as well as I that no matter where or when you travel in this universe, the same amount of relative time passes on Gallifrey. At some point, they're going to demand that you two return to answer some questions, and you'll get caught."

Melissa stayed silent, not quite understanding Donna's point. The Doctor, however, looked like he had put something sour in his mouth. "Can't we pick a different universe, Donna?"

"Just because you don't fancy facing an abandoned companion is no reason to pick an entirely different universe. We know Pete's World is relatively safe. You don't want to end up in some twisted parallel where the Brigadier's wearing an eye patch again, do you?"

"No," he answered resignedly, wishing that Donna didn't have all his memories. "And for the record, I did not abandon Rose. I left her with me."

Condescendingly patting his hand, Donna said, "You keep telling yourself that, Sunshine."

Finished with her tea, Melissa looked at them both quizzically. "I don't understand. Why are we going to cross the Void?"

Patiently, the Doctor tried to explain it to her in a way that her time-damaged brain could understand. "We are going to hide on Pete's World. The Council can't reach us there, and unless they breach the TARDIS databanks, they shouldn't suspect that we made the trip. When we get back, everyone will think that you were pregnant before you went to Gallifrey."

"Okay."

She agreed because she trusted him rather than for the fact that she actually understood his explanation. She did recognize the need to hide the Bad Wolf's actions from the Council, but she didn't really comprehend how going to Pete's World would accomplish this. Giving herself a headache, she pressed her palm tightly against her forehead, frustrated that she couldn't comprehend something that was so basic to the two people sitting next to her.

Seeing her distress, the Doctor stood up. "Why don't we go rescue Jack from my brother and eat some lunch? Any particular restaurant you want to try?"

"Someplace with chips," she answered emphatically. Rose said the chips on Pete's World were rubbish."

"Chips it is, then."

By the time the Doctor, Melissa and Donna arrived at the Hub, Jack had told everyone his version of what had transpired on Gallifrey. Since he had been a corpse for much of that time, however, there were more questions waiting for the Doctor and Melissa. They answered as truthfully as possible, being sure to tell everyone that they'd each been given a new set of regenerations.

When Melissa mentioned being questioned by the High Council, Brax became very keen to hear a detailed report, but his brother downplayed that aspect of their stay. Gallifreyan politics would be incomprehensible to the humans in the group, and Brax had most likely received his own report about their testimony. He was still in charge of the Celestial Intervention Agency, and the Doctor didn't believe for a minute that he hadn't been informed of their every move.

Eventually, they ended up at the Hard Rock Café. After four decades of living in the United States, Melissa had very particular views on chips. She would have suggested hunting down a McDonald's, but with a party of thirteen, the fast food chain wasn't the best choice. At least at the Hard Rock, she could order iced tea, even if the Doctor did raise an eyebrow as she squeezed a lemon wedge into her glass.

As she ate her lunch with gusto, Melissa listened to the conversations going on around her. Gwen was going to have a baby; she and Rhys were talking about it quietly, assuming no one would be able to overhear. Martha and Mickey were inseparable, and the medic looked happier than Melissa had ever seen her. Ianto was talking to Drocina about Myfawny, debating the various brands of chocolate the pteranadon responded to best. Jack was telling some impossible story to Donna and Wilf, who were laughing so hard they had tears in their eyes. The Brigadier was quietly asking the Doctor for his opinion about UNIT's latest threat assessment while Sarah Jane listened intently. And Brax was staring at her as if she had brought a skunk to the table.

"What?"

Her tone held a hint of a challenge to it, and everyone fell silent as her bond brother tapped his fingers annoyingly on his plate. "Just wondering why you haven't regenerated yet. Not that I think your form isn't lovely, but the High Lord President informed me of your disabilities."

Briefly locking eyes with Captain, the Doctor became cheerfully animated as he addressed his brother. "There's a good reason for that, actually." His voice carried so that the entire table could hear. "Emma's pregnant."

"Ooh, who's the lucky man?" Martha immediately asked.

"It's the Doc's," Jack immediately answered with a wry grin. "Forget those lessons Drocina's been giving you? Time Lords have triple stranded DNA, Martha. When it comes to procreation, it'd be easier for me to mate with an ape."

Rhys guffawed, and Melissa squelched an impulse to publically congratulate him and Gwen on her pregnancy. Brax looked dumbfounded while Drocina studied her critically and then acidly addressed the Doctor. "Why would you inflict such a thing on her in her diminished capacity?"

Haughtily, the Doctor stared at the young Time Lord physician, his voice dripping with disdain. "I wouldn't. Emma was pregnant before we left for Gallifrey."

Everyone except Jack was caught off guard by his assertion. The thought that she had been willing to sacrifice her unborn child to restore Gallifrey momentarily stunned those at the table. Then, just as quickly, they were all talking at once, congratulating her and the Doctor.

As best wishes went all around, Melissa quietly took Jack and the Doctor's hands. Instantly, they were standing underneath the intact pavilion. "We're going to Pete's World, Jack." Then, looking at the Doctor for confirmation, she added uncertainly, "Donna says it will fool the Council so they won't know about the Bad Wolf."

Nodding, the Doctor explained the plan. "No matter how long we stay away from Gallifrey in this universe, the same amount of relative time passes there. It was set up that way so Time Lords couldn't do what we did and go back in the planet's past to change something. If we cross the Void, however—"

Instantly grasping the possibilities, Jack enthusiastically interjected. "We can spend as much time there as we want! Brilliant!"

"As soon as Melissa finishes her chips, we'll be off. Just need to know how many of this lot's going to tag along."

"Donna," Melissa replied immediately. "She'll want to see him."

"Martha," Jack suggested. "We need an alibi. We can take her to Barcelona, go to Pete's World and come back before she knows we're gone. She can honestly say that we were with her the entire time."

"I suppose Mr. Mickey goes as well, then," the Doctor countered. "Wouldn't want to separate young love, would we?"

"With Gwen pregnant, that leaves Torchwood very short-staffed."

Jack grinned in elation. "I wondered. How'd you find out?"

"My temporal lobe might be impaired, but my hearing isn't. That's all she and Rhys have been whispering about."

"That complicates things, Doc. How long are we going to be gone?"

"From their perspective, only a few days. Ours, a month to six weeks."

Jack could live with that answer. They'd been gone almost a week already, and a few days either way wasn't going to make much difference. "Okay then, I'll ask the Brigadier to provide temporary staff, unless you think Sarah Jane would agree to stay?"

"No, Sarah gets nervous around guns, but you can ask."

Agreeing in principle to the plan, they focused on the outside world. "So," the Doctor began, aiming for casual yet enticing, "Melissa, Jack and I are going to celebrate on Barcelona-the planet, not the city. Anyone up for a little vacation? I promise you won't be gone more than a few days."

The Brigadier and Sarah Jane snorted when he promised a quick return, and each gave a hasty, "no thanks." Brax disparaged the Doctor's taste for planets with dogs with no noses, and quickly informed his brother that he had more important things to do. Drocina looked like she was going to say yes, but Jack swiftly asked her to fill in as Torchwood's medic while Martha was gone.

Suspiciously, Martha remarked, "I don't remember saying I'd go."

"But you didn't say you wouldn't." Donna intervened, ardently giving Martha several reasons why she should make the trip. "Come on, Martha. I'm going. The shopping is fantastic, and the Doctor promises no shooting."

Smoothly, the Doctor interjected. "You can even take Mr. Mickey along."

"Oi!" Mickey didn't like being dragged into something without being asked, but he saw the pointed look on his boss' face, and immediately changed his tune. "That sounds good. Hadn't had a proper holiday in a while. Think I'm due for one."

"Good, it's settled, then. Well, no time like the present. We'd better be off. See you in a few days."

"What about us, Jack?" Gwen's question cut through even the Doctor's manic prattle, and the pleased smile slipped off the Captain's face.

"I'll be back in a few days. I promise. In the meantime, the Brigadier will assign Captain Magambo and a few UNIT soldiers here for temporary duty. I'm sure it will be fine."

The Brigadier didn't even know that UNIT had a Capt. Magambo, but he readily agreed, sensing that there was more going on than met the eye. Sarah Jane offered the services of Mr. Smith, but didn't volunteer to stay in Cardiff. Ianto stared stonily at Jack, thinking that some things never change. And Brax watched them all very carefully, wondering what his brother was up to.

Dropping a handful of hundred pound notes on the table, the Doctor quickly marshaled everyone who was going to Barcelona outside. Jack lingered a few extra minutes, trying to make up for his abandonment of the team yet again, but Gwen was icily ignoring him and Ianto pointedly told him to have a nice time. Disgruntled, Jack walked into the TARDIS to find the Doctor entering the coordinates for Barcelona.

When the ship rematerialized outside of a sprawling resort on the outskirts of Barcelona's capital city, Martha was a tad bit put out. "I thought you were going to give us a chance to pack!"

"Take all you want, Martha Jones! The TARDIS has provided suitcases for each of us outside of the console room, but feel free to peruse the wardrobe if you're worried that she didn't choose everything you might need."

"The TARDIS packed for us? "I hope she's better at coordinating outfits than you are at piloting."

As Martha joked with the Doctor, a deep bass vibration echoed throughout the ship. He and Melissa shared a brief, knowing look. Sending a silent plea to his ship to behave, the Doctor sincerely hoped Martha's suitcase hadn't been incinerated.

"I think you'll find that the TARDIS is more than capable, Martha Jones."

After a brief discussion, the Doctor booked three rooms: one suite for himself, Jack and Melissa, another for Martha and Mickey, and a separate, single room for Donna. The two suites were conveniently located on opposite ends of the lush, grass covered resort, and he casually suggested that everyone take some time to settle in before meeting for dinner in two hours at the restaurant by the pool.

As soon as Martha and Mickey were out of sight, the Doctor, Melissa, Jack and Donna raced back to the time ship. With a surprising amount of trepidation, the Doctor set the coordinates for the TARDIS nursery in Brazil. There, he used the residual energy of the growing TARDISes, along with the dimensional stabilizers of the two resting Battle TARDISes to direct enough power through the Void to open a stable hole between the two realities. Flicking the switch he shouted, "Allons-y!"

Sitting at his desk staring at his blank computer, the Doctor wondered if he'd ever get his happily ever after. In theory, it should have been easy. He was literally made for Rose. Same memories, same man, except for the one heart. They could grow old together, have children and live the domestic life he'd always dreamed of having with her.

Except, she wasn't the same Rose, and it was completely his fault. In her quest to find him, she'd become a soldier. She'd fought too many battles, made too many sacrifices and seen too many people die not to be affected by her journey. Her eyes were full of a sorrow that couldn't be chased away by platitudes. And, he'd seen it too often in the mirror to think that it was simply going to go away. Time doesn't heal all wounds.

Suddenly, he could feel her standing behind him. Turning to face her, he smiled and pulled her onto his lap. "Five hours of uninterrupted sleep. You had a good night." He didn't mention the last four hours she had stayed in bed, tossing and turning and dwelling on old nightmares.

There was a hint of her old spirit when she cheekily replied. "Yeah? Might sleep that long every night if you're going to be that energetic. You managed to wear me out."

Kissing her ardently, he finally suggested, "How about I show you my moves right now? Nothing wrong with a morning nap."

She tensed, and the happiness on her face disappeared like it had never been. "Going to be late for work if we do. Don't want anybody thinking something's wrong."

"You saved all of creation, Rose. I think you're entitled to a lie in if you want it."

He hated this Torchwood, with its ruthless efficiency and its insistence on adherence to a surprisingly long list of rules. He'd left after three weeks, telling Pete that he'd be willing to consult from time to time if it was necessary. Rose's father had been more than understanding, but Rose had not. After three days, the Doctor had asked for his job back.

He hated fieldwork, especially when Rose put herself in the line of fire, which was more often than not. Now that he could have a life with her, the thought of losing her had become almost unbearable. Oh, he missed the travelling as much as she did, but he would have been happy to walk away from the terrifying bits of trouble in between. He just wasn't sure she could.

She smiled again, but she hadn't gotten all that good at faking it, and he knew it wasn't real. "Think we'll save that for a proper holiday. Besides, I'm not tired."

Matching her lighthearted tone, even if it was faked, he said, "You, Rose Tyler, have forgotten how fun it is to skip school."

"Can't skip school. Might have missed the Krillitanes if we had." Kissing him briefly, she left in pursuit of a cup of coffee.

The screen was still blank on the Doctor's monitor, but he was using the computer at his cubicle in Torchwood rather than the one at their flat. He really didn't know how to write up the latest alien encounter in his weekly report. The Gnessic had been more than accommodating in their effort to initiate trade relations, but he had a strong hunch that their cooperation was merely a feint. In the prime universe, the Gnessic Conglomeration were conniving, thieving scavengers who didn't usually bother with asking nicely. Reminding himself about the pitfalls of gingerbread houses, he gazed out the window before starting to type. He would give the bare facts, without commentary. If Pete or anyone else wanted his opinion, they could ask for it.

He was sending the report to Central Control when a familiar feeling washed over him. For a second, he thought he had finally gone insane, but then he was rushing out the office, calling over his shoulder that he needed some air and would return in a minute. Not knowing what to make of his sudden change in behavior, Rose dropped the report she was reading to follow him.

The TARDIS landed with a groan and a wheeze outside of Canary Wharf, and the Doctor glanced apprehensively at Donna. Suddenly, he wasn't sure that travelling to Pete's World had been such a good idea. In fact, E-Space might have been preferable. At least in that universe he wouldn't have to look himself in the eyes and see the recriminations he knew he would find there.

Donna just looked at him like she always did when he was doing something particularly dim, and silently pointed her chin at Melissa. She was curled up on the jump seat next to Jack, once again looking drawn and forlorn. Reminded of the reason they were here, the Doctor moved to stand protectively next to her.

"Ready?"

"I suppose."

It wasn't the most encouraging of responses, but he smiled anyway. "You don't have to see them, you know. We can find a nice, deserted tropical island and have a real holiday."

"I shouldn't hold her accountable, should I? She doesn't even remember being the Bad Wolf."

"'Can if you want," Donna affirmed, taking her place on the other side of the Doctor. "After what's happened, you're entitled."

Melissa gave her outspoken friend a weary smile. "That's what I love about you, Donna-you don't hide your opinions. To clarify, I'm not going to hold Rose accountable. In fact, I'd rather she not be told about the Bad Wolf at all. Can't we just pretend this is a normal pregnancy?"

"Pretend being the operative word," the Doctor said darkly. He was still trying to come to terms with the fact that she was pregnant with twins. He didn't want to alarm the Captain, but there was every possibility that neither of the embryos would develop to term. The strain might simply be too much for her body to bear.

Even Donna didn't have a comeback to his dour pronouncement, and they all stared at the door of the TARDIS for several long seconds, trying to decide the best course of action. When there was an insistent pounding on the door, they realized with a start that the decision had been taken away from them. Striding to the entrance, Donna pushed open the door to walk confidently outside.

"Donna?" The Doctor stared in shock at his friend. Of all the people he had expected to see, she had not been one of them.

Grinning from ear to ear, Donna enthusiastically embraced the part human Time Lord. "Look at you! You're still a skinny streak of nothing. What is Rose feeding you?"

Running to catch up, Rose spied the TARDIS, and thought for a moment that she might faint. Donna and the Doctor were hugging, and . . . was that Jack poking his head out the door? What was going on?

Noticing her distress, her Doctor let go of Donna to wrap his arm around her waist. "Easy there. I know it must be a shock."

But not as much of a shock as it was for him. He had known the original Doctor was dying, just as he had known that Donna's mind would begin to fail. He simply hadn't been brave enough to tell Rose. Now, he was very glad he hadn't mentioned anything at all. If Donna was alive, then there was a good chance his counterpart might be as well.

As Jack walked out of the TARDIS to stare at the zeppelins overhead, he grinned delightedly at the blue-suited Doctor and Rose. "You're not going to just stand there all day, are you? Don't you want to come in?"

The metacrisis Doctor didn't need to be asked twice. Enthusiastically, he bounded into the TARDIS, stopping in his tracks as he saw not only his Time Lord twin, but—oh, now that was impossible.

"Doctor." He greeted himself warily, suddenly unsure of everything.

"Doctor." The Doctor gravely acknowledged his counterpart, snapping his jaw tightly closed before breaking out into a massive grin. "Thought you might like to see that things worked out better than we anticipated."

Not taking his eyes off Melissa for a second, the other Doctor beamed. "Beyond our wildest imaginings, I'd say."

Walking inside, talking animatedly to Jack and Donna, Rose ignored the two Doctors as she noticed who else was in the console room. "Melissa!"

Excited to see her friend alive and well after the horrible events in the alternate reality, she rushed over to give her a hug. But she stopped abruptly when she noticed that Melissa was teary-eyed. Quietly, she sat down on the jump seat next to her.

"You alright?"

"Not really," Melissa answered in a small voice, not even pretending to be perfect.

Not bothering to ask what was wrong, Rose hugged her warmly, whispering in her ear. "We'll talk, yeah?"

Her lip trembling too much to speak, the Time Lord returned the hug all the harder. It was good seeing Rose, no matter what the Bad Wolf had done. When she began to sniffle, however, Donna was instantly at her side, desperately trying to think of a diversion.

Looking at the two Doctors, who were now regarding each other appraisingly, she shouted. "Oi! You two! You going to stand there all day, or are we going to find a better parking space? Canary Wharf gives me the creeps, no matter what universe it's in."

That was enough of a distraction for the Doctors to work together to pilot the ship. With Donna and Jack's help, the TARDIS easily dematerialized and then rematerialized in the gardens of the Tyler mansion. Spilling out, everyone began to talk at once, the reality of being in Pete's World finally sinking in for the TARDIS crew. They were soon joined by Tony Tyler, who was confused to see two Doctors when he was used to seeing one. After the Doctor he knew introduced his counterpart as his twin, the boy was more than satisfied, and ran circles around the group as they ambled towards the house.

"Oh my God, it's really you! I knew I heard the TARDIS!"

Running, Jackie threw her arms around the brown-suited Doctor, giving him a big hug and kiss. As everyone laughed at them both, she invited her guests inside. Chattering a mile a minute, she warmly hugged Donna before kissing Jack, having recognized them from the Dalek Crucible. When she noticed Melissa, however, she simply smiled warmly.

"So, you the newest companion, then? How long you been travelling with the Doctor?"

Most of the group glanced uncomfortably around, suddenly unwilling to answer, but Rose swiftly spoke up. "Melissa's the woman in the States I told you about, Mum. She's married to Jack."

The blue-suited Doctor opened his mouth to correct her assumption, and suddenly, the air was fraught with tension. Both Jack and the Doctor instinctively grabbed Melissa's hands. Before the other Doctor could say anything, Jack appointed himself spokesman for the trio. "Actually, she's married to both of us."

Even his most charming smile could not erase the look of hurt and confusion on Rose's face. "Doctor?"

Her own Doctor put his arm around her shoulder. "It's a long story, Rose, and I think we should wait to tell it until everyone's rested."

For a moment, Rose thought of protesting, having assumed that she and her Doctor would be leaving shortly for their proper universe. However, taking one look at Melissa, she changed her mind. Her friend didn't look up to answering any questions at the moment. Determinedly, she focused on Melissa's needs rather than her own. Swallowing her questions, she nodded.

Showing a surprising amount of sensitivity, Jackie also kept her comments to herself as she silently led them all into the mansion.

"Doctor?" Jackie meant to ask the newly arrived Doctor if he would like to show his wife to a guest room where she could rest, but she was frustrated when the two outwardly identical men turned their attention to her in tandem.

"That's enough of that," she said decisively. "I refuse to call you both Doctor and have two of you answering at the same time. There's enough trouble with one of you, usually."

Donna immediately pointed to the original. "You can call him Spaceman. He answers to that."

Shooting Donna a dark look, he overrode her suggestion. "You can call me John Smith, if you like, Jackie. I've used that name in the past, and since I'm not the proper Doctor in this universe, I don't mind temporarily adopting it again."

Stunned, Jackie Tyler stared searchingly at the Time Lord. He was certainly being more accommodating than she was used to. "Nah. Guess it's not a problem, there being two of you. Long as there's not twice as many monsters, I think I can handle it."

Unexpectedly, he gave Rose's mother another hug. "Jackie Tyler! You would not believe how much I've missed you!"

She looked at him as if he were completely bonkers before smiling. "Get on, you! How about a cup of tea for everyone?" Then, trying to be thoughtful, she asked, "Or would your wife like to rest?" Deciding that she might as well get it out in the open, she continued with a devilish look, "Got a bedroom big enough for the three of you, if you want it."

Thankful for her usual bluntness, the Doctor responded warmly. "Tea sounds brilliant! And, Em gets a little claustrophobic in the TARDIS if she's there too long, so your offer of a bedroom for the three of us would be appreciated. Got another room for Donna in this ostentatious house of yours?"

Jackie rolled her eyes at Rose, who was still somewhat in shock. "Well, he's still rude, that's for sure." Then, she led them all into a spacious den. "I didn't pick this house, you lug, so don't go blaming me for it being all big and flashy."

Before the Doctor could comment, Jack quietly interrupted. "I think Melissa and I will postpone tea for a while, if someone could show us to our bedroom?"

Knowing that Jackie no doubt meant the room where he and Rose had stayed until they had found a flat, the human Doctor immediately volunteered, leading them upstairs. Jackie excused herself to speak to the cook in the kitchen about supper, and Donna followed. Once she and the Doctor were alone, Rose demanded an explanation.

"When did you marry her? Is that the real reason you left me behind?"

"What? No, I mean, how could you think . . . ?" Abruptly, he stopped trying to defend himself. "I did not leave you behind, Rose. I gave you a chance to have the life we could never have. I thought that's what you wanted."

"I wanted you," she protested, and he sharply cut her off.

"You have me! Except for the one heart, that man upstairs is me, Rose. All my memories, all my pain, all my emotions—he is me!" Suspiciously, he added, "Unless you were in love with the adventure, the travelling. Are you Rose?"

"No! I'm in love with you. It's always been you. Even when you were mooning over Madame de Pompadour, it was always you."

Her denial was swift and vehement, and his reaction was just as strong. "Then why are you acting this way? The Doctor upstairs was literally made for you. Why do you see him as something else?"

Caught up in the emotions of the moment, Rose failed to question his assertion that the part human Doctor had been made for her. She did, however, manage to express her feelings for the metacrisis very clearly. "I don't! I love him just as much as I love you, and he's not afraid to say it out loud! We were fine until you showed up! Why did you have to come here and make everything difficult?"

Instantly, the Time Lord deflated, hating to see the anguish on her face. Softening his expression, he opened up his arms, and she ran to him. Wrapping her in a comforting hug, he realized with a guilty start that he'd only considered Melissa's welfare when planning the trip to Pete's World. Not once had he even considered that it might be detrimental for Rose to see him again.

"I'm so sorry, Rose. I never intended to hurt you. I only thought of Melissa's welfare and not yours. I should have thought it through. We should have gone to a different universe."

Even as she begrudgingly accepted his apology, she couldn't help but be curious. "What d'ya mean, Melissa's welfare? What's wrong with her, anyway? And why would you come here instead of where she's from? Hang on a minute, how'd you get here in the first place? You said the walls were closing for good this time."

Looking down at her mascara stained face, his hearts swelled with pride and affection. She was just so Rose. No matter what life threw at her, she was concerned about others, and she always knew what questions to ask.

Hoping his return wouldn't drive a wedge between her and her own Doctor, he smiled warmly. He wouldn't breach his bond mates' privacy, but he could tell Rose how brave they'd been. "The walls will never be closed again, Rose, and that's all due to Melissa and Jack. Let me tell you a story . . . ."

Sipping their tea at a cozy table in the kitchen, Jackie and Donna couldn't help but overhear the raised voices in the den.

"Sorry," Donna immediately started, only to be interrupted by Jackie.

"Don't go apologizing for the Doctor. It's not like it's your fault or anything. I reckon those two have some unfinished business and they might as well get it out in the open. I've never loved that man more than when he sent her back here with the other him. She's got a chance at a normal life now, and she knows that. Just, seeing him here with another woman as his wife when he kept saying he couldn't have that kind of life, well, I imagine my Rose is more than a little hurt right now."

"It's not like that, though," Donna quickly refuted. "He didn't replace Rose. He wouldn't. Melissa was his wife long before Rose was even born." Seeing Jackie's look of disbelief, she added in a rush, "She's a Time Lord. She'd been turned into a human and lost her memories. The Doctor didn't even know who she was until after we defeated the Daleks."

Jackie looked dumbfounded, but it didn't take her long to find her voice. "That's more ridiculous than the stuff they show on _Corrie_!"

"It's true though."

"Oh, I don't doubt you. Impossible things seem to happen to that man, and it's nice to finally hear of a good one. No wonder he's changed. How does that Captain Jack fit in, then?"

Jack, who had been standing at the door of the kitchen blatantly eavesdropping, walked in and picked up a chocolate biscuit. Popping it into his mouth with a grin, he readily answered Jackie's question. "I've loved Melissa since the day we found her and that hasn't changed because she turned out to be a Time Lord. Lucky for me, she feels the same way."

"So she's a bigamist, then? Like those Mormons in Utah, yeah? Only in reverse."

That made the Captain chuckle. "For the twenty-first century, I guess that's not a bad description. By the twenty-seventh, our relationship won't even raise an eyebrow." He decided that it wasn't his place to explain the exact nature of their relationship. He had a feeling that Donna knew more than she was saying, but he knew he could trust the woman with the Doctor's memories to understand and keep it to herself.

They stayed in the kitchen for a long while, drinking tea and chatting about friends and acquaintances. Jackie was pleased that Mickey had found someone, and wanted to know all about Torchwood Cardiff. As Jack described his team and the work they did, she smiled outwardly, but inwardly, she worried. She hoped they would all understand what would be required of them during their visit, but she had a sinking feeling this Doctor wasn't going to be as accommodating as the other one had been. Hoping that Pete would be late for dinner, she asked Donna how her mother and grandfather were doing.


	3. Pete's World

Author's Notes - First of all, thanks to **dwatlaskrhtcm** and **The OnyxRose** for reviewing. I really appreciate it.

I thought it would be interesting to explore the differences between the Doctor and the metacrisis, so I placed the beginning of this story on Pete's World. As you might have noticed in the last chapter, the two men are remarkably similiar, but they have had very different experiences since Journey's End. And, that is going to influence their actions dramatically. Hope you enjoy.

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><p>As Jack spoke to Donna and Jackie in the Tyler kitchen, Melissa and the metacrisis Doctor were putting sheets on the guest bed. She'd silently asked Jack to leave; she had some things she wanted to say to this Doctor that she didn't want anyone else to hear.<p>

He regarded her cautiously. The first person he'd run from, the woman he'd never been brave enough to face, stood across a bed from him, tugging the corner of a fitted sheet onto the oversized mattress. What the hell was he supposed to do now?

"It's funny, seeing you, Em. It's rather like seeing a ghost."

"You're all too real. I bet seeing the Doctor was a shock. You left him to die. No, you left them both to die." The words came out much harsher than she'd expected, but she meant them nonetheless.

He weakly tried to defend himself. "We didn't see any other way. The walls were closing, and we made a choice to make Rose happy."

When she didn't respond, he grew defensive. "He wouldn't let me! He was dying, and didn't want both of us to throw our lives away."

"You could have . . . ."

She let the sentence die as she grew increasingly frustrated. Before Rassilon's tomb, she would have known exactly what he could have done. She could have seen the possibilities as easily as a human can see the hand in front of his or her face. Better, actually, because a human depended upon light to see and her sense of time hadn't been dependent upon anything. Well, her temporal lobe, she supposed. Now, all she could comprehend was a vague recollection of being so much more. He was right. She was a ghost.

"Em? Are you alright?"

"I'm perfect," she replied insincerely. Then, not wanting him to pry any further, she added more generously, "You're right; there was no other way."

"Thank you." It was more than he'd expected. "I'm sorry about Susan and Matthew. They were good kids. They didn't deserve what happened to them."

On that, at least, she could agree. "No, they didn't. Thank you for making sure it wouldn't happen to anyone else."

The man in blue abruptly turned bitter. "He used it against me. He told Rose that I'd been born in battle, that I couldn't be left on my own. It's a wonder she accepted me at all."

There was no sympathy in her gaze when she replied. "Well, he couldn't say that you'd been born for her, but at the cost of his own life. I know Rose well enough to know she wouldn't have let him die alone."

The retort was out of his mouth before he had a chance to censor it. "Lucky for you that he didn't mention it, then."

"Did you get all of Donna's brashness and none of her compassion?

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that."

"Yes, you did," she snapped. His barb had stung on many levels. What would have happened if Rose had still been around when Jack had opened the watch?

"Maybe I did," he admitted quietly, regretting that he had hurt her once again.

Then, he unexpectedly changed moods, grinning wildly at her. "But look at you—travelling in the TARDIS, married to me and Jack. Why Jack, by the way? The Captain's clever enough to understand you're different now. He did see the dichotomy of Professor Yana and the Master firsthand."

"Don't you dare compare me to that bastard." Her ire was replaced by confusion. He really had no idea about Jack. "The Doctor didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

Reeling, she sat weakly on the bed. The Doctor hadn't told him anything about the bond. And, by his lack of questions, he hadn't revealed her pregnancy, either. She could pretend everything was normal, even to the doppelganger in front of her. Suddenly, the need to clear the air with him was replaced by a feeling of sheer relief.

"Emma, are you alright?"

"I'm perfect. Just a little tired."

Chagrinned, he quickly finished putting the duvet on the bed. "Right! Of course! Should have thought of that straight away. You look knackered. There's an en suite behind that door, and if you need anything, let someone know."

He left so quickly that she didn't have time to respond, for which she was very grateful. He might be the Doctor, but he was no longer her Doctor. Her Doctor had comforted her as she mourned her children. Her Doctor had stubbornly stayed by her side when she'd all but pushed him away. Her Doctor had accepted the double bond and all that it implied. The one who'd been made for Rose hadn't done any of that, and had left the Doctor to die to boot. She wasn't ready to trust him yet.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Tossing and turning, Melissa had just given up on a nap when the door to the bedroom opened and Rose hesitantly approached. Sitting up, the Time Lord gave her friend a tired smile. It was strange, seeing Rose after her confrontation with the human Doctor. Was the young woman still a friend or merely a rival? Or was she perhaps a bit of both?

"Hey."

Responding to Melissa's invitation, Rose sat on the bed next to her. After hearing a highly edited account of Melissa's life since the Crucible, one concern overrode all others. "I'm so sorry about Susan and Matthew. The Doctor said they'd been visiting a friend at the Pentagon."

"Yeah, Tommy was one of those gingerbread people the Doctor warned me about, but he was a really good friend in both universes." Reflective, she added, "I can only hope he died first. He would have blamed himself."

"It was the Dalek's fault. It always is."

Startled, Melissa thought about her assertion. "I guess it is," she agreed quietly, before adding a caveat. "Except for the alternate reality. That was a Time Beetle's fault."

Aghast, Rose bit her lip. "You remember that? Control said no one would."

"Apart from a Time Lord and a fixed point in time." Reminiscing, a brief smile softened her drawn features. "You were so brave, Rose. You managed to convince Donna to bring him back. If you hadn't, I would have lost everything."

"We all would have. I'm just sorry you have to remember it."

"Why?"

"Because it was horrible! The Doctor was dead, and nothing went right, and your baby died, and Susan wouldn't talk to you, and then you died on the Titanic. And, I knew you were going to die, and I should have done something about it, but Control said it was necessary, and I saw every one of my friends suffer, and I wasn't sure that I could fix anything!"

Melissa immediately countered her argument. She couldn't let Rose believe any of that had been her fault. She had been so very proud of the young woman as she faced impossible choices in the reality created by the Time Beetle.

"Those things were terrible, but parts of it were wonderful, Rose. Jack and I created a life together, and Joy was a treasure. I was devastated when she died, but I wouldn't ever want to forget her, just as I could never forget my other children. I'm sorry it was so hard for you. I knew you were telling me goodbye when you came to see me, but I'm so glad you did. It made me appreciate what I had all the more."

"Guess I never thought about it that way. I jumped ahead so much; it was only a week for me, but everyone else took the slow path."

The slow path—that was an odd way to put it, Melissa thought. She remembered too much running to call her life with Jack the slow path.

"Melissa, are you alright?"

Startled, she looked guiltily at Rose. "Just remembering."

"I can go, if you'd rather."

"No, I didn't mean it like that. I'm glad you're here. I missed you."

Impulsively, Melissa hugged her friend. She had missed Rose. After a moment, Rose grinned, her earlier sadness temporarily at bay. "So you're a Time Lord."

Her eyes lit up excitedly; at least Rose didn't think of her as a ghost. "I forgot you didn't know! Here." Taking Rose's hand, she put it against her chest, letting her feel the beat of her two hearts.

Pulling her hand away, the young woman shook her head in amusement. "That is so weird. You were there, all that time, just waiting for the Doctor to find you."

Suddenly, she was serious again. "You mad at me?"

"Mad?"

"Yeah, 'cause, he and I . . . you know."

"What, danced?"

"Yeah."

"Why would I be? He was so sad and lonely, and you made him better. You made him want to live again, not just exist. You were just what he needed, Rose Tyler."

"It was more than dancing, though."

"Of course it was. He loves you. He's happy you and he can be together, even if it's . . . complicated."

She snorted. "Can't get anything but complicated with him, but I think having two Doctors about tops it this time."

Melissa once again became lost in thought. Two Docs—separate but equal. No, separate and very unequal. She definitely knew which one she preferred. If the partly human Doctor had been made for Rose, did that mean the Time Lord had been made for her? She almost laughed out loud at her naïveté. No, more likely she had been made for him the moment she had looked into the untempered schism.

"You okay, Melissa?"

"What? Oh, I'm fine, Rose. Just thinking again."

"Looks like whatever you're thinking about is making you sad. Maybe I should go."

Peering at her friend, the Time Lord thought the same thing could be said for her. "Are you happy, Rose?"

Melissa's simple question blindsided the younger woman. She'd not thought in terms of her own happiness in a long time. Making a leap of faith, she decided to confide in the one person who might understand.

"I just want to make him proud, you know? Defender of the Earth, that's what he called me, but I was never good enough. I kept missing him, all those hops in the dimension cannon-twenty minutes too soon, or five seconds too late or one universe off. Didn't matter; I couldn't find him in time. He got shot by a Dalek because of me, and all I could think was 'don't change.' Everyone on every world in every universe was about to be exterminated, and I was worrying about whether he was still going to be him! I could work for Torchwood for a thousand years and not make up for that. And, I'm afraid-I mean, really properly terrified-that this is my last chance. If I fail one more time, I don't think he'll forgive me."

"Oh, Rose." She hated that her friend had bottled up so much self-doubt. "He loves you, not because you've saved more people than you could possibly count, but because you're you. You poke your tongue out when you smile, and you have a passion for chips, and you had faith in him when no one else did. You have to have a little faith now. He doesn't want a soldier. You've defended the Earth enough. He wants the one thing he never thought he'd have with you. He wants to be domestic; he wants the house, the car, the mortgage, and everything else that word entails. In a word, Rose, he wants you."

"You really think so?"

"I know so. I saw him after Canary Wharf. He was devastated. He hadn't eaten, hadn't slept, and the TARDIS dropped him at my doorstep. He told me about the conversation you two had on the beach in Norway. He told me about the baby, and how he had hoped that it was yours."

He did? But, then why did he leave me again?"

Before Melissa could respond, everything suddenly clicked for Rose, and she gazed at her with equal parts amazement and shame. "He told me today that he was dying. The Doctor gave me a chance at a better life, and I've been too scared to accept what he offered. I can't believe my Doctor even stuck around. All I've done is try to prove to him that I can handle whatever crisis comes Torchwood's way."

Trying to cheer her up, Melissa offered, "He's the Doctor. Even the possibility of being domestic with you would be enough to make him stick around."

"Yeah," Rose dazedly replied. "He is the Doctor, and you're right, he definitely would." All of a sudden, there was a cheeky smile on her face. "I think I need to find my Doctor and ask him just how big a house he thinks we're gonna need!"

They hugged again briefly, and then Rose was out the door, the optimism that had been missing since the alternate reality suddenly back and bolstered by Melissa's assurances. It didn't make all the horrors she'd witnessed suddenly go away, but learning that she didn't have to do penance for each and every one of them went a long way to restoring her confidence.

Alone, Melissa leaned wearily against the headboard. Her encounters with the other Doctor and Rose had drained her emotionally. As her body continued to adapt itself to nurture the two lives growing inside her, she began to suffer from a despondency that threatened to crush her. Forcing herself out of bed, she wandered into the en suite, and tried her best to convince herself in the mirror that she felt fine.

But she wasn't fine. She was nothing more than a pawn and only second best. She'd been the one left behind, the one forgotten, the one who couldn't do anything right. She was a horrible mother; all of her children were dead, and the ones she carried would probably die too. It didn't matter; she didn't deserve to live. She'd killed Jack and damaged herself to the point that she was only a ghost. Ghosts don't have children. They were merely shadows. She wondered if shadows felt pain. Because if they didn't, then she wanted to be one.

As the negative thoughts churned relentlessly in her mind, she sank down to the cool tile floor. It would be so easy to give up. She was tired of hurting, of hurting others. With a strangled sob, she curled into a ball and gave into despair.

Jack and the Doctor were bursting through the bathroom door within two minutes of her collapse, having felt her anguish from the well manicured lawn where they'd been playing football with Tony Tyler. Dropping to her side, they did their best to reassure her that nothing was wrong, reinforcing their message through the bond. Gradually, her emotions stabilized, although she was left with an excruciating headache and extreme fatigue.

Helping her stand, they led her to the bed. Stubbornly, she refused to lie down. "I'm not sick," she griped irritably.

"No, just pregnant with twins," the Doctor shot back, taking a number of readings with the sonic screwdriver. "Jack, get her a large glass of orange juice, would you?"

As soon as Jack had left, the Doctor sat next to her, trying to be as dispassionate as possible when he wanted nothing more than to whisk her away to the TARDIS and keep her under his constant watch for the next six months. "Your hormones are fluctuating wildly at the moment. It seems to have affected the levels of glucose in your brain. Any symptoms now besides the exhaustion?"

"My head hurts." As he rubbed the back of her neck, she asked fearfully, "Will that happen again?"

"Possibly, I really don't know. Maybe we should have taken Drocina."

"And be forced to explain why there are two of you? She may have accepted Donna, but I doubt she would have approved of you having a doppelganger with one heart."

"I doubt she would presume to judge. If you hadn't noticed, the students have put us both on a very tall pedestal."

"That just means we have farther to fall."

He glanced at her sharply, fearful that her melancholy was returning. Lacing his fingers through hers, he pushed a stray lock of wavy hair from her face. "You're not going to fall. I won't let you."

Still uneasy, she asked, "Does anyone else know how stupid I was?"

He had to literally bite his tongue not to argue with her over her use of the word stupid. Where the hell was Jack with that orange juice? "No. Tony might think we're unreliable footballers, but we left him with Jackie and Donna outside, and Rose and I have disappeared."

"He's not you. I don't want to think of him as you."

There was no way he was going to argue that point with her at that moment. Instead, he desperately tried to make her smile. "What do you want to call him, then? Clone's not completely accurate, and Handy would be too rude, even for me."

For an instant, he thought he saw a hint of a smile, so he continued in an exaggerated tone. "Hmm, let me see. The Partly Human Metacrisis Doctor, while descriptive, is really too much of a mouthful. If Donna's the DoctorDonna, does that make him the DonnaDoctor? Wait! I know! We could call him Fred!"

She smiled in spite of herself, and by the time Jack returned, her headache was only a dull throb. The orange juice went a long way to improving her mood. In fact, by the time she had finished it, she felt almost normal, although she was still exhausted.

Exchanging looks with Jack over her head, the Doctor offered, "Why don't you take a nap?"

"I'm not tired."

"Sweetheart-"

"No, Jack, I won't let you two gang up on me."

Gazing at her innocently, as if he had never intended to suggest she sleep, Jack gave her a wry grin. "Actually, I was going to ask if you'd like to come outside. Tony's waiting on us. I thought you might like to watch the game with Donna and Jackie.

His swift change of tactic temporarily flustered her. "Oh. Sorry. I thought—I mean . . . I'd love to go outside. I've heard so many things about Jackie; it'd be nice to get to know her."

As soon as Melissa stepped foot onto the lush green lawn, Donna enthusiastically waved for her take a seat in one of the unoccupied steamer chairs. There was a small picnic table next to each, filled with trays of biscuits, nuts and grapes. Tony was munching happily on a few grapes as he waited patiently for his new playmates. Ignoring Melissa completely, he ran at top speed towards Jack and the Doctor as they trailed behind their wife.

For a moment, neither man saw the excited little boy, too caught up in their private conversation to take much notice of anything. But, when he pulled on the Doctor's trouser leg, the Time Lord smiled indulgently, turning his full attention to Rose's spirited young brother.

"Still want to play?"

"Yes, please! This is the most fun ever!"

With that endorsement, Jack trotted to the opposite of the makeshift field, ready to defend his goal as the Doctor and Tony passed the ball back and forth.

"Would you look at those two," Jackie said fondly as she offered Melissa a glass of wine. "You'd think they were just big kids themselves."

Politely turning down the wine, she chuckled. "It's nice to see them both relaxing."

"Donna told me things haven't been relaxing to any of you for a while. I'm so sorry to hear about your children's deaths. That's a real tragedy. Bloody Daleks."

"I miss them. They would have loved this. Matthew and Athena would be out there playing with their fathers, and Susan would be sitting here listening to us while she waited for Rose." Turning to Jackie, she smiled appreciatively. "Your daughter was very kind to Sue. Rose treated her like a little sister, and I know she thought of Rose as her best friend. It was hard for her when Rose was lost. I think she partly blamed the Doctor, even though she never said."

"I thought you had two kids."

The smile disappeared from her face. "I had four. Athena, Matthew and Susan were killed by the Daleks. Joy was born with a heart defect."

Jackie gave her an all too sympathetic look. "Oh, I'm so sorry. I only heard about the two."

Donna quietly explained when Melissa didn't speak. "Athena was killed a very long time ago. She was the Doctor's daughter. Joy only lived for a few days in the alternate reality where the Doctor died. She was Jack's."

"I still miss them, and my granddaughter. I never got to see Susan grow up."

In this case, having the Doctor's memories was a boon. It was easy for Donna to reassure her. "Susan was brilliant. She made sure he didn't get into too much trouble, and she was one of the most compassionate Time Lords I can remember. He knew that too, but he also knew when it was time for her to have a life of her own. When she fell in love with David, he locked her out of the TARDIS."

Jackie snorted. "That sounds like something the Doctor would do."

"Oh, yes. That man is very good at doing what's best for others." Watching the game for a minute, Donna added sagely, "Doesn't mean he knows a thing about taking care of himself, though." Grinning, she tried to lighten the tone of the conversation by exaggerating wildly. "You should see the kitchen in the TARDIS, Jackie. I swear that man exists on bananas, marmalade, biscuits and tea."

"Don't tell Tony that. I have enough trouble getting him to eat his mushy peas."

That comment sparked a discussion between Jackie and Donna about children and food preferences. Donna carried the conversation very well, relying on her memories of her children in the computer at the Library. Somewhere between listening to their chatter and watching the football game, Melissa nodded off in the comfortable chair, her exhaustion finally catching up with her.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Less than an hour later, Pete Tyler strode into view, and Tony ran to him, jabbering excitedly about his afternoon spent playing football. Gripping his son in a hug, Pete was all smiles until he noticed the Doctor walking towards him. Promisingly distractedly to play with Tony later, he waited for the Doctor to come into hearing range.

Not having seen the TARDIS, the head of Torchwood assumed he was addressing the man who'd been working for the organization for over a year. "Doctor! Where did you and Rose run off to this afternoon? I had to cover your unscheduled absence by saying you were investigating a sighting of an unauthorized Gnessic ship."

The Doctor's eyes narrowed at the mention of the Gnessic Conglomeration, but he was all smiles by the time Pete reached Jackie to give her a quick peck on the cheek.

"Pete Tyler!" he said enthusiastically, shaking his hand so vigorously that Pete thought it might fall off. "It's good to see you! Still putting up with Jackie, I see. Your son is a wicked striker, you know. Or, at least you would know if you played with him much. Do you play with him much, Pete? Because I get the distinct impression that Tony's not used to afternoon games with his family. And, that's a shame because I know Rose especially likes a good game of football. As a matter of fact, she scored the winning goal in the Chernolian Open Invitational Intramural Football Tournament on Cinarv. Of course, the Chernolians don't get much taller than four feet, but it was a commendable accomplishment nonetheless."

Pete Tyler looked like the Doctor had grown two heads until Jackie spoke up. "This here's the other Doctor. Parked the TARDIS in the rose garden this afternoon. He's going to be staying a while."

The welcoming smile slipped off Pete's face as Jackie announced the Doctor's intent to visit. "How long's a while?" he asked cautiously.

Jauntily, the Time Lord answered. "Don't know yet. A couple of weeks, maybe. Although, we certainly don't have to stay at the mansion that long. You know what they say; fish and company start to smell after three days." Then, doing his best to keep the wariness out of his voice, he asked innocently, "Why?"

"Any extraterrestrial staying more than forty-eight hours on Earth must be registered with Torchwood."

"No exceptions for aliens who saved the planet?" His tone was cheerful, but his eyes betrayed his growing irritation.

Pete wasn't ready to back down. As reasonably as he could, he argued. "It's not just aliens, Doctor. It's all extraterrestrials. Your companions will have to be registered, too. Rose and the other Doctor are registered, if that makes you feel any better."

"It doesn't," he snapped.

Intervening, Donna interjected. "Oh, come on, Spaceman. It's like going through passport control at Heathrow, only on a grander scale. You can't seriously think there wasn't some sort of regulation about aliens here, can you? I mean, last time you were here, this place was under curfew and divided up into zones."

"It's still under curfew," Jackie muttered under her breath, but no one paid her the least bit of attention.

Grateful for an ally, Pete stuck out his hand. "Pete Tyler, and you are . . . ?"

"Donna, Donna Noble. I travel with the Doctor. Nice to finally meet you. Jackie was telling me that you run Torchwood on this world."

"More like manage it, I'm afraid. All the authorization comes from Control. I'm just the middle man. If it were up to me, none of you would have to register."

Knowing the Doctor would have a difficult time keeping quiet about that declaration, Jack pasted on a hearty grin and held out his hand. "Captain Jack Harkness. I run Torchwood Cardiff on our Earth. Nice to finally meet you."

Grasping Jack's hand, Pete smiled just as disingenuously. "Then you'll understand the need to follow procedures, even when you might otherwise make an exception. Good to make your acquaintance, Captain."

"Oh, I don't know," Jack remarked offhandedly. "I find that flexibility is one of my strongest assets."

Having woken up when Pete arrived, Melissa had to stifle a giggle as she contemplated the extent of Jack's flexibility. Coming under Pete Tyler's gaze, she stood to offer him her hand. "Melissa Morgan, Mr. Tyler." Then, very deliberately, she added, "I'm the Doctor's and Jack's wife."

If she'd been hoping for a reaction, she didn't get one. Pete had been the leader of Torchwood for far too long to let a little thing like bigamy faze him. "It's doubly good to meet you, then." Addressing Jackie, he suggested, "Perhaps we could go inside and have a drink before dinner?"

That got them all moving, although it was clear to everyone except Pete that the Doctor didn't think the discussion ended. Rose and her Doctor returned without explanation just before dinner was served, but by the satisfied grin that Rose couldn't wipe off her face, it was easy to guess what they'd been up to. Even Tony could sense something had changed.

"You look happified, Rosie."

"That's because I am," she answered gleefully.

Before she could expound, however, Tony seemingly changed topics. "The Doctor's brother isn't happy. He doesn't want to do the alien paperwork like you had to."

Rose instantly became guarded, looking pleadingly at the man who wasn't quite her father. "Can't we just overlook that? It's mostly a formality, isn't it? You know they're no threat, and they're not staying forever, just a few weeks while Melissa rests. Her children were killed by the Daleks."

"That's a tragedy. But, they need to be registered—trust me on this. It's for their protection as much as ours. If Control were to find out that I'm entertaining extraterrestrials, I'd be sacked in a heartbeat. And, then there'd be no one looking out for you at Torchwood."

Before any of the guests could ask why Rose might need someone looking out for her, she took her Doctor's hand and looked confidently at the man who ran two empires. "You don't have to worry about me anymore, Pete. The Doctor and I have decided to resign from Torchwood. Think we might go travelling a while before coming back and buying a house."

Jackie beamed at the news, although she was quick to make sure that they didn't plan on travelling in the TARDIS. Once Rose had assured her that wasn't their intent, her mother did her best to plan their wedding, although the Doctor protested several times that he hadn't asked Rose to marry him yet.

"You're going to, and that what matters. Your wedding'll be the social event of the year. That needs planning, that does."

The Doctor holding Rose's hand rolled his eyes. He doubted that she wanted an extravagant wedding any more than he did, but Jackie was going to be difficult to dissuade. Rose basked in well wishes, cheerfully ignoring her mother's offers to plan their wedding. The Doctor was right; he hadn't asked her yet—not that it mattered.

She was trying to decide if they should go to Paris or Greece first when the Torchwood strike team tasked with apprehending illegal aliens burst into the dining room, guns drawn.

At the first shouts of "Stand to be processed!" Tony dashed under the table, crying hysterically. In one fluid motion, Jack pulled Melissa behind him, and the Doctor stood in front of them both. The other Doctor was similarly standing in front of Rose, although it didn't look like she was going to put up with being protected for long. Donna, however, just sat there, too stunned by the turn of events to do anything dramatic.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Jackie demanded angrily. "You're ruining our dinner!"

Pete stood uneasily between the two groups, looking apologetically at his wife. "I'm sorry, Jacks. I made it clear that this wasn't a hostile situation. They were just supposed to drop off the paperwork. I thought it would save everyone a trip into Torchwood."

"You called them?" she asked in outrage. "After all the Doctor's done for us, you turned him in without even asking? It's not even been forty-eight hours yet!"

Rose had crawled under the table to comfort Tony, but at Pete's explanation, she carefully put the crying child in Jackie's arms. The little boy gripped his mother so tightly she thought she might choke. Sitting down, she soothingly patted his back as she watched her daughter vent enough anger for the both of them.

"How could you? You know what they're going to do, and you know the Doctor wouldn't agree to it!"

His voice grown cold and dangerous, the Doctor commanded, "What are they going to do, Rose?"

Distraught, she turned to face him. "If you're human, they just process you. Takes a couple of hours to fill out all the papers." Biting her lip, she continued reluctantly. "But, if you're an alien, you're quarantined at a special Torchwood facility for seventy-two hours to make sure you aren't a threat."

"Over my dead body!" Jack was suddenly front and center, his hand itching for his absent weapon.

"Captain," the Doctor warned, and Jack begrudgingly backed down.

Appraisingly, the Doctor surveyed the five black clad, heavily armed commandos surrounding them and didn't like the odds. "It looks like we have no choice."

"I knew you'd understand, Doctor," Pete Tyler had the gall to say.

Jack responded immediately, needing to do something to vent the rage that was making him consider some very reckless acts. "I think we all understand that you're very good at covering your ass!"

His rant didn't seem to bother his host at all. "You'll be back in a few hours, Captain Harkness. I'm sure once you fill out the paperwork, you'll understand that everyone is blowing this out of proportion."

"We'll go with you," Rose offered.

"'Course we will," her Doctor quickly agreed. "Might as well make it a party."

The burliest of the strike team barked, "No one is going anywhere unless I say so!"

Even Pete seemed a little taken aback by his outburst. "Now, see here—"

"No, you see here, Director Tyler. Control has overlooked the fact that your entire family is on the extraterrestrial list, but they are not making an exception this time. You have four unregistered guests, one of whom is a self-proclaimed alien. They, and they alone, will be taken to be processed. Once the humans have filled out the paperwork, they will be returned to the mansion. If the alien proves to be no threat, he will be returned to you at this time on Friday. Make any attempt to interfere and the visas of everyone in this room will be revoked, including your son's, do I make myself clear?"

"Very."

The Doctor relaxed as the man explained what would happen. It sounded like he was the only one slated to be taken to quarantine. As long as Melissa, Jack and Donna were safe, he could plan on escaping later if it became necessary. Putting on a goofy grin, he stepped up to the black clad figure.

"Yep, that's me, alien through and through. Although, I think Torchwood's policy is a tad bit extreme, don't you? If I'd had been in quarantine the last time I popped over for a visit, this world would have been pulled into the Void. Just ask Pete here if you don't believe me."

Pete met the Doctor's gaze before stating tonelessly, "The woman in the black and green's an alien, too. She's got two hearts, same as him."

Immediately, two of the strike team flanked Melissa, each with a gun pointing at her head.

There wasn't any argument after that. Rose gave Donna a brief hug, whispering, "It'll be fine," before the redhead was led out of the room. Jack was taken next, and briefly considered subduing his escort, but the woman looked edgy enough to be a problem. That left the Doctor and Melissa still in the dining room with three Torchwood operatives, the blue-suited Doctor and the Tyler family.

When the lead agent pulled out the plastic handcuffs, the Doctor did his best to avoid them. "That won't be necessary; I assure you. Surely, there are files about me in the Torchwood archives. You should know I'm not a threat."

"Standard operating procedure. You and the female will be taken to the quarantine facility. They'll remove them there."

"My name's Melissa." She wasn't scared, but she was getting angry. Holding her hands in front of her, she ignored the two covering her to approach their obvious leader. "Look, can we just get this over with?"

Her lack of sufficient fear infuriated the man. Grabbing her arms, he wrenched them behind her back, pulling the plastic restraints tightly against her wrists. Then, he shoved her towards the door. Staggering, she tripped over her own feet, landing heavily on the floor. Both Doctors immediately ran to her.

Knowing that three guns were pointed directly at them, they did nothing more threatening than help her stand. The Time Lord was radiating a fury that had cowed more than one megalomaniac, but he was doing his best not to look at any of the soldiers in the eye.

"You'll be fine," the blue suited Doctor whispered as he made a show of examining her shoulder.

She didn't get a chance to reply as she was pulled out of the dining room. The Doctor vehemently protested her treatment as he was roughly cuffed and led out of the house behind her. It was only once they were outside that he realized Jack and Donna were nowhere to be seen.

"Where'd you take my friends?" he asked, not really expecting an answer.

Surprisingly, he got one. "They're being taken to Canary Wharf. The paperwork's tedious, but not that difficult to fill out."

Well, that was good to know, he thought. Although, it had a certain ominous ring to it. It was obvious that he and Melissa would not be taken to Canary Wharf. He decided to test his luck. "So where are we going, then?"

For a reply, he got a black canvas hood shoved over his head. "Need to know, and you don't. Might as well take a nap. It's going to be a while."


	4. In Torchwood's Care

Author's Notes - This is definitely not Jack's Torchwood, as you're about to see. While the idea of registering aliens is pretty benign, the implementation leaves a lot to be desired. There's a good reason for the differences, which should become clear in the next few chapters.

Thanks to **TheOnyxRose**, **dwatlaskrhtcm**, **Mrs. 11th**, and **Way Worse Than Scottish** for reviewing the last chapter. And, thanks to everyone reading and putting the story on alert and favorites. By the way, I'll try to update regularly on Monday, Wednesday and Friday, although the Wednesday will definitely depend on how well my week is going. Hope the chapter makes sense.

* * *

><p>Bouncing uncomfortably in the back of a van, his head encased in a black hood, the Doctor calculated the relative speed of the vehicle and the direction they were travelling. After leaving the city, they headed almost due west, most likely the M4. After forty minutes, he had a suspicion about where they would end up. Bored, he adjusted his position, hoping to bump into Melissa.<p>

She was lying on the floor, and as soon as his leg brushed hers, they made contact. He found her choice of scenery interesting; they were in his bedroom on the TARDIS. She was curled up on the bed reading The Deathly Hallows.

"Matthew's favorite," she said with a smile.

Ignoring her choice of books to recall, he joined her in bed. Immediately, she snuggled next to him, putting her head against his chest. Stroking her hair, he asked, "How are you feeling?"

A sheepish expression stole over her face. "Well, I'm trying very hard not to throw up, because I don't think that's such a good idea when there's a sack over my head. And, I could really use the loo, but I don't think they'd stop if I asked. But, other than that, I'm fine. You?"

"I'm trying very hard to remind myself that if we cooperate, we'll be released. Because, I'm starting to get a little peeved."

The cloister bell sounded ominously in the distance, and Melissa threw him a look. "Are you sure you're just a little peeved?"

"Hardly," he admitted, trying to regain some control. "I'm furious. I don't know who I'm angrier with, Pete for being an insufferable ass, or me for stranding Jackie, Rose and Fred here without making sure they'd be safe."

"They're safe. I think it was just us who upset the apple cart." Amused that he was playing along by calling the other Doctor something silly, she gave him a mental kiss on the cheek. Then, she went back to reading her book.

He kept up the contact for several minutes, wanting to make absolutely sure that she was as serene as she seemed. Eventually, her tranquility suffused through his mind, and he calmed considerably. They were in an uncomfortable situation, but so far, they hadn't been hurt. And, they'd both been through much worse. It did no good to dwell on what might happen. Closing his eyes, he meditated until the van pulled into a multistory car park and stopped.

They were in Cardiff; he already knew that much. And by the length of the ride on the lift, he could guess that they were going directly into the Hub. He wondered how closely Torchwood III resembled its counterpart on Pete's World. Knowing all the exits ahead of time would be very beneficial if they found themselves in need of escape.

He didn't have time to wonder for very long. The Hub sounded surprisingly familiar, although there were many more voices. But then, they were being led through a long tunnel that didn't exist in their own universe. The floor was made of stone, slippery and wet, and he could hear water dripping down the sides. After a few minutes, the floor changed to concrete, and then finally to an industrial grade carpet.

It was when the concrete turned to carpet that they were both pushed into chairs and their hoods removed. Melissa sat across the table from him, looking extremely green and sucking in large gulps of air. He stood instinctively, only to be pushed back down.

"Don't move unless you're told to."

The order came at the end of a pistol, and he had no choice but to obey. They hadn't said anything about being quiet, however.

"Can't you see she's not well? Untie her now!"

"After we get you two into the system."

Looking at the woman seated at the head of the table, the Doctor was struck by two things. One, she didn't resemble Gwen Cooper at all, which was somewhat irrelevant. And two, she had responded so emotionlessly to his demand that it was apparent she was inured to complaints. It didn't look like she was going to be swayed to make an exception now.

Catching the Doctor's eye, Melissa gave him her best smile, which wasn't very good at the moment, but it was still better than the grimace on his face. "I'm okay. I'll be perfect once I can visit the ladies' room.

He could see by her subsequent glare that she wanted him to shut up. Begrudgingly, he did just that.

Twenty minutes later, Torchwood had them registered in their computer as John Smith and Melissa Morgan, Time Lords. The printer spat out a very long roll of labels with their names on them, and the Doctor had a sinking feeling that Torchwood's idea of quarantine was not a passive one of wait and see.

Finally, they were told to stand, and the plastic restraints were cut from their wrists. The Doctor's wrists were rubbed raw. Looking at Melissa's, his jaw clenched in anger. Her wrists were covered in smudges of dried blood. Whoever had fastened hers had pulled them too tightly.

"Jack's not going to like that," she said conversationally as she stared at her wrists. "Too many bad memories."

He didn't like it, either, having seen those memories for himself when he had been forced to enter her mind to save her life only a couple of months ago. He knew she didn't like reminders of his trespass, however, so he kept quiet as a woman wearing a white coat sprayed something on her cuts.

It immediately foamed and started eating away at the dried blood. Then, the foam ate away at itself, until nothing was left but a clear film on top of her broken skin. Some sort of antiseptic and invisible plaster, the Doctor decided. It wasn't nearly as good as nanogenes or even a tissue regenerator, but it was adequate for the task.

As soon as the spray had done its job, they were both led in opposite directions. The Doctor's jaw was beginning to hurt-he was clenching it that much. They were going to be examined separately, and there was nothing he could do about it. Unexpectedly, he had only one thought in his mind. If anyone hurt her, then he was going to kill them all. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he fingered the sonic screwdriver while trying to control his primitive urge to protect his mate.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Melissa finally got to use the loo, although it was for the convenience of the Torchwood medics rather than her. She seriously considered vomiting just so they'd have more things to test, but decided she wasn't ready to be that petty. Sitting in a drafty hospital gown an hour later after a very thorough examination, she was beginning to wish she hadn't taken the high road. The phlebotomist wasn't very good at her job, and it took three sticks in the crook of her left arm before blood started flowing. She had a suspicion that the woman had gone through her vein the second time; she could already feel the bruise forming deep in her muscle tissue.

As they took a pint of blood for testing, she thought of the last time she'd been in a similar situation. No matter what a mess she'd made of it, she wouldn't have changed a thing. Well, maybe one. She should have told Martha what she'd done. Martha, she was sure, would not have protested too much, and then she could have avoided the crack on the head that had followed.

Cracked heads were much like cracked eggs. They were cracked. Like Humpty Dumpty. Silly name for an egg, really, and why would the king's horses be able to help in the first place? And, WHAT THE HELL WAS SHE THINKING? Forcing herself to open her eyes, she saw the phlebotomist and another woman peering intently at her.

"Don't worry," a wiry, middle aged blond woman wearing green hospital scrubs assured her with a too cheery smile. "Not everyone can stand the sight of their own blood. You might feel a little shaky for a while."

Blood—they'd been taking her blood. She remembered now. She didn't like them taking her blood, or any of the other tissue samples and fluids they'd extracted from her. In fact, she was getting quite annoyed with Torchwood. And, sparing a glance behind the phlebotomist, she could see that they'd taken two pints instead of one. No wonder she'd zoned out.

Woozy, she missed what the woman in front of her face had been saying, and had to shake her head a little to clear it. "I'm sorry, what?"

"That's alright, Melissa. You don't have to apologize. I just wanted to tell you that I'm Betty and I'll be taking care of you during your stay here. As soon as the attendant comes with a wheelchair, we'll get you to your room. Is there any type of Earth food that you can't eat?"

Melissa did a slow burn as the woman who was certainly not named Betty made use of her name without permission and then spoke to her like she was a child. She almost insisted on walking to her prison cell, which was a more accurate description of where she would be staying than the hotel like atmosphere Betty was trying to conjure. She managed to quell that urge, however, choosing instead to seem as weak and compliant as possible.

"Can I have some tea, maybe, when we get to the room? I feel so cold and tired. I'm just so cold."

Patting her hand, Betty said in surprise, "You must be cold; your hands are like ice. We don't usually fulfill requests after eight, but seeing as how you got here late, I'm sure we can get you some tea. You take anything in it, dearie?"

Shaking her head, Melissa did her best to remain passive while she thought of various things she could do to her keeper for calling her dearie. When the wheelchair arrived, she found to her chagrin that she needed it. It was all she could do to stand to sit in it.

Damn, damn damn—damn the Bad Wolf, damn Pete Tyler, and damn Rassilon for that matter. She should not be pregnant in some alien detention center in the wrong universe. The only good thing about any of it was that the Doctor was with her. When she was wheeled to a tiny cell containing a single bed, toilet and sink, however, she realized that she wasn't even going to have the Doctor. Not bothering to see if Betty would really return with tea, she curled up on the bed, morose.

The Doctor underwent a similar experience in another wing of the underground facility. He'd protested a bit more than she had, especially when they'd taken his clothes and therefore his sonic screwdriver. Since all of his protesting had been verbal, however, the men poking and prodding him had pretty much ignored it.

Sitting on the edge of the bed in his cell, the Doctor continued to protest as he worried about Melissa. "Oi! Surely you're not going to make me wear this drafty gown that doesn't even fasten all the way down the back for three days, are you? The prison cell's bad enough, and while I haven't tasted it, I'm sure the food's worse."

When no one answered, he continued to make demands, wanting his invisible guards to become accustomed to ignoring him. "How about some trouses? I'll wear the gown if you just give me the trousers. Mine should be available. After all, a man should have some dignity, shouldn't he?"

He spoke in a similar vein for another hour before giving up. Lying on the bed, he let his feet hang over the end and put his arms underneath his head. Staring up at the obvious surveillance camera for a while, he finally feigned sleep.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Waking with a start two hours after she'd fallen asleep, Melissa slowly sat up, cradling her head. She'd been dreaming that she was in Rassilon's tomb again, doing something that she couldn't even comprehend anymore. And all the while, she could feel Jack slowly slipping away from her. She'd woken up when she'd lost the grip on his hand.

She hated that nightmare, hated all that it implied. She'd not been willing to sacrifice Jack to save Gallifrey, and yet in the end she'd let him do just that so he could save the Doctor and herself. She shouldn't have let him go in the first place.

Idly looking around, she spied the tea that had been left in a thermos near the door to her cell. Immediately, she retrieved it to take a sip, thankful to find it nice and hot. She wished she had something to eat to go along with it, but she didn't have anyone to ask.

Pacing as she drank, she tried to focus on the positives, but it was difficult. In fact, it was impossible. She was in a cell, and it didn't look anything like a hotel room. It looked like a cell. All of a sudden, she remembered all the reasons why she didn't like being in a cell. Bad things happened when you were locked up. People could do bad things to you. People had done bad things to her when she was a prisoner of the Time Agency.

That reminder gave her a massive headache. The headache exacerbated the nausea to the point that she was kneeling over the gleaming metal toilet, unwillingly giving back the remains of the roast she'd eaten at dinner. Finished, she rested against the wall near the sink, waiting for someone to appear, but no one did. That was significant, she knew, but she couldn't quite work out how.

Hours later, the Doctor wondered why he hadn't been fed breakfast. He'd seen two men in green scrubs carrying a total of eight covered food trays that he could only hope were for the prisoners. He'd loudly asked why they hadn't fed him, but again, received no reply. Promptly at eleven, two very large, very muscled men arrived to lead him out of his cell and back to the room where he'd been examined twelve hours ago.

More samples were taken, including three vials of blood. Annoyed, he started to protest, but he was led into a new room and left alone before he could do more than sputter. It was not a cheery place to be. The walls were grey as was the industrial carpet on the floor. A large Attique scanner dominated one side of the room, and three posts with leather restraints ominously stood opposite it near the far wall.

He wasn't that impressed. The bulky equipment was from the twenty-fourth century. While it was better than a modern day CT scanner, it wasn't half as sensitive as the medical device installed in Jack's Torchwood Hub. He wondered at the restraints, though. Attique medical technology was designed with the patient's comfort in mind, even a nonhuman one.

He didn't have long to wonder. Less than a minute later, the same beefy attendants that had taken him from his cell strapped him to the posts. Standing with his arms painfully outstretched, the Doctor watched as they silently left the room and the medical scanner began to hum. He could tell by the sensation that they had only scanned him from the chest up, and he impatiently waited for someone to let him out of the restraints so he could complain about his treatment once again.

Only, no one came. Forty-eight minutes and thirty-six seconds passed before two different men in green scrubs and white coats entered the room. He was about to protest his treatment when he saw what they had rolled into the room with them. It looked like a fifty-first century mind probe. Pulling against the restraints, he glared while a hulking Viking of a man firmly attached the mind probe to his head. He wasn't worried about himself; he knew several tricks to fool such a device. However, in her diminished state, his bond mate would have no such advantage.

"You're pulling my hair," he whinged, as if that was the most troubling thing about the entire situation.

The thinner man who was bent over the control box sniggered at his complaint, so the Doctor focused his attention on him. "Well, he is. You don't think my hair looks this fantastic on its own, do you? I don't want your goon here ruining its shape."

"Hear that, Victor? He called you a goon. I'd be insulted if I were you."

Victor the Viking smiled, and it wasn't a pleasant smile. When he spoke, his voice had a hint of a Scandinavian accent and was overflowing with arrogance. "Goon's don't have three doctorates. I do."

The Doctor couldn't help himself. Taunting his foes had become second nature by now. "One of those wouldn't happen to be in ethics, would it?"

Again, the man by the cart found his humor amusing, but sadly, Victor did not. He balled up his fist and punched the Doctor in the stomach. Bending over as much as the restraints would allow, the Doctor tried to catch his breath. Maybe insulting the goon hadn't been such a great idea.

"Cut it out, Victor. You know Dr. Harper doesn't like anyone mistreating the prisoners."

"Quiet, Neil, or I'll tell Owen what really happened to that yellow furry thing you said drowned itself in the toilet."

Hiding his reaction, the Time Lord pondered the fact that Owen Harper had a doppelganger in this universe. He remembered the medic fondly through Melissa's memories. If this one was remotely close to the Owen she had known, perhaps he might find a way out of this for her after all.

They started with general questions first, asking if he intended to harm anyone on Earth. He had to dodge that one. By now, he was so angry at Pete Tyler that he would be happy to see the man keelhauled, but he answered in vague terms and the machine believed him. It was also easy to answer why they had come to Earth. He had been curious about the other Doctor's welfare, even if it wasn't the main reason they had made the trip.

As the questions became more specific, however, it became more difficult to fudge the answers. And then, they started asking questions that he was simply unwilling to answer at all. He was not about to tell them his species' weaknesses, only to have them turned against him, or worse, Emma. And, he wasn't about to implicate Jack or Donna in being anything but standard humans.

The session ended badly, but after two hours, it did end. Blood streaming from his nose, the Doctor sank wearily to the ground after Victor punched him one last time before loosening the restraints. Spent, the Time Lord leaned against one of the posts pinching his nose until his two personal guards showed up to escort him to his cell.

Leaning heavily against them, he pleaded earnestly as they dragged him down the long corridor. "I know we're just aliens to you, but I'm begging you to stretch your imagination and think of us as people, because that's what we are, people. I have a wife, and I'm terrified that something's happened to her, because I haven't seen her since we arrived last night. And I know she won't be able to tolerate that machine those cretins just used on me."

They were as responsive as a pair of Judoon, but he didn't give up. "Please, I need to speak to someone in authority, someone who can help her. You can do whatever you like to me, but she can't go into that room. They could kill her! Please, let me speak to Dr. Harper. That's all I'm asking for, a chance to state my case to someone with a higher authority."

He had to stop then because they were pushing him back into his cell. Incredibly, there was a tray on his bed that held a thermos of tea, sandwiches, fresh fruit and crisps. Moreover, a new set of clothes, soap and a washcloth had been placed atop a folded blanket.

Left alone, he washed himself as best he could before changing into orange scrubs. He didn't understand Torchwood's aims here at all.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

At the same time the Doctor had been escorted into the grey room, Melissa had been taken to the examination room. Once again, they took blood, this time three vials. Blond Betty was at her side, giving her another false smile and promising she could have something to eat once the tests were over. The pregnant Time Lord was struggling to maintain her outward composure. She was famished, and thought she could feel her body burn muscle as her metabolism tried to keep up with the developing embryos.

She might have drifted off in the chair because the next thing she knew, Betty was talking in low tones to someone on the phone. As soon as her guard noticed she was awake, however, the mobile was snapped shut and the bright expression was back on her face.

"They're running behind on the tests today. I'm afraid you'll have to wait your turn. I promise it will be over soon. You look a little peaked. How are you feeling?"

"Perfect."

She lied unconvincingly and the woman suddenly looked uncomfortable. Hoping to get some kind of concession, Melissa asked, "Can I eat now?

For some reason that made the woman look even more ill at ease. "You've got two more tests to go, and you won't want to take the second on a full stomach."

Hiding her disappointment because she was past hungry, she asked, "Then, can I wait in my room? I am a little tired."

"'Fraid not, dearie. You just close your eyes and take a nap in the chair. I'm sure they won't be too long."

So much for stretching out. She'd almost made it back to sleep when she felt that something was horribly wrong with the Doctor. She could feel his pain piercing the bond, and she bolted out of the chair with a gasp.

"Something's wrong. I've got to get out of here. Please, you've got to let me out."

Betty asked her what was wrong, but she didn't hear the question. Every nerve in her body jangled, and she ran to the door, banging on it and begging that she be let out. No one answered her, however, and the door remained stubbornly locked.

Either Betty was much stronger than she looked, or Melissa was much weaker than she felt, but the woman had her sitting in the metal wheelchair with her wrists cuffed in thin plastic once again. She spent the next two hours whimpering while she struggled to free herself from the restraints. Abruptly, she felt the Doctor's agony evaporate, and she sagged in the chair.

A few minutes after that, they had her tied to the posts in the gray room. As the Attique scanner swept from her torso to her head, she began to suffer the same feelings of hopelessness she had felt after her emotional encounters with the human Doctor and Rose. Her body had been pushed past its restricted limits, and neither Jack nor the Doctor was close enough for her to use as an emotional stabilizer. Alone in the room, hot tears streamed down her face as she wondered if she'd ever see either one of them again.

The Doctor could feel Emma's growing anguish, but he couldn't do anything about it. Pacing like a caged tiger in his cell, he banged his tray furiously against the Plexiglas door. It soon broke and he hurled the pieces at the wall in frustration. Then, all of a sudden, he felt her despondency abruptly transform into absolute terror and agony. Enraged, he threw himself repeatedly at the door.

After a while, it became apparent even to him that all he was doing was hurting his shoulder. Drained, it took a moment for the Doctor to realize that someone had opened the door. Looking up, he saw Dr. Owen Harper, gingerbread man, staring guardedly at him from the hall.

"You have three minutes to convince me why it would be dangerous for the female to submit to the lie detector."

Staggering upright, the Doctor shouted indignantly, "How can you call that torture device a lie detector? It's a mind probe; it gets in your head and rummages around your thoughts, and it hurts whether you're lying or telling the truth. The only difference is in the degree!"

Pointedly, Owen looked at his watch. "You now have two minutes, twenty-five seconds to tell me why she specifically would be adversely affected by that machine."

Feeling her pain abruptly intensify, the Doctor pleaded with Dr. Harper. "You have to stop the probe now. Please, I'm begging you. She has a brain injury. The machine will be unable to determine whether or not she's telling the truth. When that happens, it will attempt to compensate by intensifying the scan. Her mind could literally be ripped apart through no fault of her own."

"What sort of injury?" he asked suspiciously.

Barely able to think straight, he answered as quickly as he could. "Her temporal lobe is severely damaged. She can no longer sense or comprehend the passage of time except on its most basic level. For her, there is only now, before and after. Any question asked of her that is time sensitive would only confuse her and the probe."

As Owen considered his argument, the Doctor pressed. "Please, you have to make an exception! The damage should be apparent on the Attique scans. For Time Lords, the temporal lobe is the largest area of the brain. All you have to do is to look at scans to see I'm telling the truth. Please, they're hurting her!"

Pulling up the scan of Melissa's brain on his PDA, Owen swore softly under his breath. "Come with me," he said curtly, and finding the door unguarded, the Doctor raced out of his cell, ignoring the guards in his desperate need to reach his wife. Owen was forced to run behind him.

When the Time Lord burst into the scanning room, the two technicians were stunned to see him. However, he only had eyes for Melissa. The restraints were the only things keeping her upright, and she was past the point of answering questions even if she'd been able to understand them. Incensed, he freed her from the restraints and gently eased her to the ground.

Taking in the scene, Dr. Harper was livid. "You two!" he shouted at the two technicians. "Get the hell out of here. You know you're only supposed to use the equipment on healthy subjects, and it's clear that this woman isn't! Brenda, I want the results of every test and scan we've got for the two of them available on my PDA, and I want it now."

Once he was sure his orders were being obeyed, Owen crouched beside the Doctor. "Is she responsive?"

"No." As he tersely answered Dr. Harper, he reluctantly dropped the fleeting mental contact he'd made with his bond mate. She was far from perfect, but she was determined to do something that might help them escape. They'd quickly decided to push Owen as far as he'd go, hoping that he would respond in much the same way as his counterpart.

Taking out a sophisticated stethoscope, Owen checked both her hearts. "What's a normal heart rate for your species?

Hundred forty to hundred sixty beats per minute.

"Shit."

"What?"

"Acute tachycardia in both hearts. Her rates are two hundred fifty and two hundred eighty-six respectively."

The Doctor didn't have to feign his concern. "Her body can't tolerate that for long. She'll go into arrhythmia. What the hell have they done to her?"

"I don't know! They were only supposed to do routine tests."

The Time Lord's voice became coldly sarcastic. "You mean routine tests like the mind probe?"

He saw Owen's lips tighten into a thin line as that barb hit home. Then, the physician frantically checked her test results on the PDA. Nothing matched the standard result a human would have, and he quickly became frustrated.

Just then, Melissa's eyes fluttered open. "Doc?" she called weakly.

"I'm here," he promised with a catch in his throat. He knew what she'd planned next, but it was impossible not to be affected by what she'd endured. He should have been able to save her from the ordeal entirely. The fact that he hadn't would make this all the more difficult to watch.

"I'm so cold."

Taking her hand, he realized that she wasn't lying about that. She was chilled, and it had nothing to do with the stunt she was about to pull. Vainly, he looked around for something to cover her with, noting that Owen was raptly watching the two of them.

"I'll get you blanket. Just stay with me, okay, Em? You've got to stay with me. They're not going to hurt you again. I promise. Just stay with me."

She struggled to keep her eyes focused on his face, and in that instant, he would have awarded her an Oscar because his own hearts were hammering in his chest with unadulterated terror. Before he could completely prepare for it, her eyes rolled into the back of her head and her entire body went limp.

"Emma!"

"Fuck!" Elbowing the Doctor out of the way, Owen again checked Melissa's vital signs, only this time, she wasn't breathing; one of her hearts had stopped beating; and the other one was in arrhythmia.

Tapping his earpiece, he barked, "I need a crash cart to the scanner room!" Then, he desperately began to perform CPR.

By the time the crash team had arrived, she'd gone into total cardiac arrest. It took three charges of the paddles to get her hearts pumping again, but when they did, her breathing started with a strangled gasp. They soon had her transferred to a hospital bed and were wheeling her down several long corridors before they ended up in what looked to be a state of the art intensive care unit.

The team of three doctors and a nurse hooked her up to every machine available in the room. Suddenly there was a cacophony of beeps as the medical equipment monitored her vital signs. All the while, the Doctor hovered over her, trying to remind himself that she was not a death's door as she appeared. It was an extremely difficult task.

As Owen watched his team do their jobs, he continued to scan through the test results, hoping to find something to explain her tachycardia and subsequent arrest. Finally, he thought he'd found it.

"Bloody fucking hell, how did that fall so precipitously?"

Startled, the Doctor crossed the room to peer over his shoulder. "Show me."

"Her hemoglobin levels started out a bit lower than yours, but look at the difference in the blood samples that we took when you first arrived and the ones that were taken twelve hours later. Somehow, she's developed a marked iron deficiency in less than a day."

The Doctor looked, and then he swore softly under his breath. She'd not shown any symptoms of anemia when he'd checked her with the sonic screwdriver before she'd played football with Tony. It wasn't going to last long enough to impact the embryos, but this was precisely the thing he'd been concerned about when she'd announced she was carrying twins.

"Can you start her on oral supplements?"

"Considering her condition, I'd rather administer Dextran."

He considered. Hooking her up to an IV would immobilize her for several hours. If they needed to run, they wouldn't be getting very far. On the other hand, neither of them was in any condition to attempt an escape. He was hanging on to consciousness by a thread; resisting the mind probe had been more debilitating than he'd first thought.

"She should tolerate that." Then, just to remind Owen that they were still prisoners, he asked apprehensively, "You will let me stay with her, won't you? I promise not to attempt an escape."

Owen looked like he'd swallowed something sour. "You can stay. This shouldn't have happened. Someone fucked up royally."

The Doctor repressed a grin. In either universe, Dr. Harper was descriptive. Instead, he replied harshly. "She almost died. I'd say this goes beyond a simple mistake. Just what type of facility are you running?

The Owen in their universe would have angrily exploded at the Doctor's accusation. This one managed to bottle it. "It won't happen again."

Pointedly, the Doctor looked at his bond mate. "You'll have to excuse me for being skeptical about that, Dr. Harper."

This time, the medical director bristled. "I can't change the got damn past, and I'm doing everything in my power to make sure it doesn't happen again. I don't consider you a prisoner, no matter what Control thinks. So if you can stop with the recriminations long enough to listen to me, I was going to suggest we test her hemoglobin levels in another twelve hours to determine what would be the best course of treatment. The mind probe's never sent anyone into cardiac arrest before. It's supposed to have a failsafe built in to stop just such an outcome."

Quietly, the Doctor poked holes in his argument. "A failsafe for human minds?"

The physician looked pained. "Like I said, someone fucked up royally." Watching Melissa's still form, he finally vowed, "I'm not going to let her die. You have my word." Then, he walked out of the room, already yelling at someone in the hallway to send Neil and Victor to his office.

There was no chair in the sterile room, and the Doctor knelt tiredly beside the hospital bed, holding her hand. To the casual observer, he looked to be no different than any other frightened, exhausted man concerned about his wife. However, there was much more occurring than a casual observer could perceive.

Melissa paced around a mental image of the TARDIS console as the Doctor tried to calm her down. "It's fine. The iron deficiency isn't going to last long enough to impact the developing embryos. That's why I agreed to the Dextran. You can start taking supplements once we get out of here, but the injection should be sufficient for now."

Trembling, she let him comfort her. She trusted him, much more than she trusted herself at the moment, but she was terrified that something would go wrong with the pregnancy. She did not want a repeat of Joy. "You promise?"

There was only one way to answer that. "Of course I do. Everything's going to be fine."

Reassured about the pregnancy, she quickly turned her attention to him. "They hurt you; I can feel it. It was the mind probe, wasn't it?"

"It didn't hurt half as much as feeling your pain, Em. I should never have consented to coming here."

"We didn't have much choice," she reminded him. Then, because she could sense his turmoil, she asked anxiously, "Are you sure you're alright?"

"I'm always alright," he answered before he remembered that she could sense he wasn't. "I have a nasty headache, but no permanent damage. It's you I'm worried about, although I must say that you are an accomplished actress. When you went into cardiac arrest, I thought my own hearts would stop for a second."

"It certainly gave Owen a scare. It looks like he hates losing patients in Pete's World as much as he did at home." Then, because she could still sense his blistering anger, she offered, "I don't think they meant to hurt me."

"The mind probe would have killed you," he stated flatly, not willing to exonerate Torchwood in the slightest.

"Yes, I think it would have," she finally agreed after giving the matter serious thought.

Hating to burden her further, he reluctantly admitted, "We can't stay here hoping that Dr. Harper will be able to protect us. As soon as we're able, we should escape."

She responded far more placidly than he'd expected. "I know. I was hoping we could get our clothes before escaping, though. Orange is not your color."

He responded with a smirk, hoping she would catch the reference. "If you don't like it, I can take it off."

She did, and couldn't help but smile. Jack had looked ridiculous in that orange velour track suit the TARDIS had provided him with after he'd rescued her from Bad Wolf Summit.

"You two flirted outrageously. Admit it; you loved him even then."

"I flirted with everyone in that body," he answered smugly.

"Except me."

He thought about her assertion for a moment before saying, "You know, I don't think I did. 'Course, by the time I thought about it, you had the Captain wrapped around your finger."

She was too tired to protest that Jack had been the one to seduce her. "Do you think he'll try to rescue us?"

"Jack must be half mad with worry by now. I hope he doesn't talk Donna into doing anything foolish." Knowing what he'd just said, he gave her a sheepish grin. "I suppose it would be polite to wait for them. We wouldn't want to make them come all this way only to find us gone, eh?"

He briefly sensed her amused agreement before he was forced to break the connection. A nurse had entered the room to insert Melissa's IV. He stood stiffly to watch her work. Everything seemed to be routine, and soon, the woman left. Reaching out to take Melissa's hand again, the Doctor realized that she'd fallen asleep in the few minutes they'd been separated.

Sleep definitely wasn't a bad idea. His own head felt like someone had taken a mallet to it. There wasn't a chair in the room, but at that point he didn't care. He sank to the floor next to the monitors, resting his head against the wall. Before he could even get comfortable, he realized that he was losing consciousness. With his last coherent thought, he hoped Jack would hurry.


	5. Jack's Nightmare

Author's Notes - This chapter focuses on Jack's reaction to his separation from the Doctor and Melissa. Writing Doctor 10.5 has been tricky. While he's essentially the same man, he and the Doctor have had radically different experiences since separating at Journey's End. And, in my little world, the human Doctor was specifically made for Rose, so his perspective is bound to be a little different. Let me know if you think he's too harsh. The time frame is approximately the same as the one for the previous chapter.

Thanks to **Mrs. 11th** and **dwatlaskrhtcm** for their reviews of the last chapter. I can assure you all that Pete Tyler will get his just desserts.

Hope you enjoy, and I'd love to hear your thoughts about the story so far.

* * *

><p>Jack had spent most of the night with Donna in a bare conference room in the basement of Canary Wharf filling out a seemingly endless amount of paperwork. He didn't understand why Torchwood was interested in his planet of birth, especially when it wasn't even in the same universe. But, he'd filled out the form to the best of his ability, simplifying his life when he thought the truth would raise too many questions. Donna did the same, and eventually, they were each handed a temporary visa and released. They'd made it back to the mansion around three in the morning and fell asleep out of sheer exhaustion.<p>

Waking to a nightmare, he found Rose and the Doctor in the kitchen quietly talking to Donna while Jackie cajoled Tony to eat some breakfast. Pete was nowhere to be seen, and he was grateful. He didn't think he could stand the sight of the man at that moment.

"Morning," he grunted.

"You want some coffee, Jack?" Rose peered anxiously at her friend. He looked like hell, and she wondered if he'd slept at all.

"Yeah." Then, realizing he must sound awful and look worse, he put a smile on his face. "I hope the coffee's better than the chips here. Melissa said you hated them. I can't imagine Rose Tyler living on a world that doesn't have decent chips."

She smiled, although it was strained. They were all making an effort to be jovial, temporarily ignoring the elephant in the room. "The chips are rubbish. They fry 'em in olive oil here. Doesn't taste the same, though the Doctor says he likes 'em that way."

Joining the discussion, the man in question agreed. "They season them with parmesan cheese. What's not to like?"

Donna rolled her eyes. By unspoken agreement, they talked of trivial matters until everyone had eaten breakfast. Jackie loaded the dirty dishes into the dishwasher before informing them that she was taking Tony to the zoo. On her way out of the kitchen, she casually mentioning that all the household staff had been given the week off and Pete was staying at his apartment near Vitex Industries for the foreseeable future. When she left, a glum silence fell over the group.

"We should get to the TARDIS; see if she can run a scan and find them. They can't be too far away."

Jack had already taken a few steps before the Doctor put a restraining hand on his arm. "They confiscated the TARDIS last night, Captain. It's most likely at Canary Wharf."

"So much for being welcome guests," he replied bitterly.

The urge to find his bond mates was all consuming, even if he shied away from calling them that. Everything had been happening so fast that it was a little much to take in. It had always been easier for him to think of Melissa as his wife, even when he had realized that she was so much more.

But now, he hadn't just seen her soul, he'd seen the Doctor's as well, and the Doctor had seen his. The three of them had shared an intimacy that would bind them together for the rest of their lives. As if that wasn't enough, Melissa was pregnant again. Losing Joy had torn him apart; he didn't think he could go through that pain a second time. Frustrated, he kicked a cabinet.

"We've got to find them!"

Rose and the Doctor were somewhat startled by his vehemence. Except for the TARDIS being confiscated, there was no indication that the two Time Lords wouldn't be returned unharmed after seventy-two hours as promised. Donna, however, thought she knew what was bothering him.

"She'll be fine, Jack. The Doctor won't let anything happen to her."

He wanted to say that he was worried about them both, but Rose interrupted. "Why can't you use your wrist strap to find them?"

"It's not sophisticated enough to store a triple stranded DNA pattern. I'd have to search for double heartbeats, and unless they're being secretly kept in the mansion, that's not going to work."

"'M sorry. This is all our fault. You should never have come here."

"It's Torchwood's fault," Donna swiftly asserted. "So don't go blaming yourself, Rose. Is there any way to find out where they're being held?"

It was the Doctor who answered, although he stared curiously at Jack the entire time. "Not unless we sneak into Canary Wharf, and if we do that, we might as well steal the TARDIS because it's going to be impossible to get the information we need without being caught."

"So?" Jack challenged.

"Some of us have to live on this planet, Captain."

Without realizing it, Jack took a few steps towards the Doctor, the better to tower over him as he glared indignantly. "If it were Rose and you taken, he'd do everything in his power to get you back. Lose some backbone when you lost a heart, did you?"

"Jack! Stop it! Of course the Doctor and I would do anything to get them back. It just isn't possible right now. We've got to come up with a plan, or we're going to end up locked up just like them."

Looking at Rose, he felt a stab of guilt. He hadn't meant to criticize her at all. Sitting down heavily in the chair next to her, he took her hand. "I know, and I didn't mean to blame you. It's just so damn frustrating, and I'm so worried about them both. You don't know what they've gone through recently."

As Rose accepted his apology, Donna quietly spoke up. "We should tell them. I know she wanted to pretend like everything was perfect, but it's not, and if something happens, it might be important that they know the truth."

Suddenly, the situation was reversed, and it was the Doctor who was now looking menacingly at the Captain. "Tell me what's wrong with her."

Unwillingly, Jack did, not pleased that Donna had made that decision for him. "She's pregnant with twins."

Outraged, the metacrisis unleashed an angry diatribe. "Of all the stupid . . . ! How could he have been that careless? Doesn't he know anything? She can't carry twins! Why the hell did he let this happen?"

Glaring, Jack said very purposefully, "Actually, we're not sure who the father is at this point."

The Doctor reacted before he could think to edit his words. "Don't be stupid, Captain! I realize that you were in love with her human persona, and I can understand how Emma could remain affectionate towards you, but I can assure you that the children she carries are not yours. While you're a brilliant human, you are still just an ape."

Rose blanched and would have run out of the room, but Jack instantly replied in a tone he usually reserved for those he held at gunpoint, and she stayed a moment to listen.

"For someone so smart, Doctor, you're the who's stupid. Seeing as how you're about to marry an ape, I wouldn't go insulting the species quite like you did. And, for your information, Melissa and I have already had a child together. Her name was Joy, and she lived for four days in the alternate reality. She had a defect in her left heart, and we made the decision not to take extraordinary measures to save her life knowing what would happen when the alternate collapsed."

Then, because at that moment he couldn't stand the sight of the man who was the spitting image of the Time Lord he loved, Jack walked quickly out of the kitchen, through the back door and into the garden. He needed some fresh air.

The Doctor looked like he'd been punched in the gut. "Rose? I didn't mean it like that. I would never . . . ."

He stopped speaking when Rose ran after the Captain. Confused at how quickly things had gone wrong, he looked beseechingly at Donna. "Surely you understand what I was trying to say? He shouldn't be able to impregnate her at all. I didn't mean to imply that he or Rose were in any way inferior."

She sighed, caught between wanting to slap some sense into him and the desire to give him a warm hug. "You've really done it now, Sunshine. But, I'd give Rose some time to calm down before you go apologizing."

Remorseful, he nodded. "I suppose I should apologize to Jack as well. I'll admit the thought of Emma accepting him is beyond my reckoning."

"Why is it so hard for you to accept that she could love Jack?" Donna demanded irately. "He sacrificed so much for her when she was human, and he knowingly gave his life for her when she went back into the Time War to save Gallifrey. If that's not love, then I don't know what is."

"It's just—he's Jack, Donna! I don't even want to imagine what they get up to."

His outspoken friend grinned. "Let me clue you in on a little secret, Martian Boy. It might have been Jack and Melissa and Melissa and the Doctor at first. But, I think it's pretty much Jack, Melissa and the Doctor now. So you might want to stretch that imagination of yours."

"No!" he said in bemused indignation. "I can't, I mean, I wouldn't, that is . . . . " Running out of steam, he asked incredulously, "Are you absolutely sure?"

"Well, I haven't asked to watch, if that's what you mean," she said sarcastically. "But I did hear the Doctor say just about the same thing to her right before I convinced them to come here."

"Why did you need to convince them to visit?" he asked suspiciously. "Not that I don't appreciate seeing you, but I would have thought this is the last place he'd want to be."

"For such a big brain in that head of yours, you really can think small," she griped. "It should be obvious after what Jack just told you."

"But all he said was Emma was pregnant with twins, and she didn't know who the father was." After a second, the penny dropped. "Why wouldn't she know who the father was? What didn't he tell me Donna?"

"When the Bad Wolf appeared in the Panopticon, she gave Jack everlasting death. But before she did that she said, 'I bring life'."

His expression changed from confusion to horror in an instant. "If the Council finds out—"

"Why do you think we're here, Dumbo? Martha and Mickey are on Barcelona, and when we meet them for dinner, Melissa will be weeks, not days pregnant, and no one on the Council will ever be the wiser."

Working it out, he said in amazement, "But that's brilliant! I can't believe he thought of that. I must be smarter than I think."

"Oi, Doctor! I convinced him. That little extra spark of human in a Time Lord brain, remember? You wouldn't have dreamt of it in a million years."

He grinned at her sheer brilliance, and then sobered once again. "Rose can't know, not ever. I told her what she'd done to Jack and she was inconsolable for weeks. If something happens to Emma, it will kill her."

"Don't worry; no one wants to tell Rose. In fact, Melissa would like to pretend this is a normal pregnancy, so you're going to have to play dumb, too."

The blue suited Doctor looked resignedly at his friend. "With my track record, that shouldn't be hard to do."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Jack stared absently at the spot where the TARDIS should have been, doing his best to calm down. It wasn't really working, but it beat returning to the house. After a few minutes, he could feel someone's eyes upon him, and guessed who it was.

Not turning around, he called out. "You don't have anything to feel bad about, Rose. I'll find a way to get them back."

She came to stand beside him, slipping her hand in his. "I know you will."

When he looked down to give her a smile, she smiled tremulously back, and then started talking about what was really bothering her. "Do you think that's all we are to them, apes?"

"No, although, I know how you feel. I kept waiting for her to tell me her feelings had changed, that I was too primitive or too wrong, but she never did."

"How could you think such a thing, Jack? I didn't know she was a Time Lord, but it wouldn't have made any difference. Every time we met, all she could talk about was you and the kids."

He reassured her with a smirk. "I figured it out eventually."

"She doesn't seem so happy now," Rose noted apprehensively. "I thought it was just her kids dying, but what did the Doctor mean about she shouldn't be carrying twins?"

Wishing Donna had kept her mouth shut, he intentionally tried to downplay it. "You know how overprotective he can get, Rose. Twins carry a slightly increased risk for the mother, just like in humans."

"I guess." She didn't think he was telling her everything, but then, it wasn't really her place, was it? Focusing on the more immediate problem, she asked, "Can your wrist strap track the TARDIS?"

"Yes and no. She's complicated enough that I can't store her bio data on my computer, but close range, I can pick up her temporal signature."

"That's good, yeah?"

"It's good as long as the ship's still at Canary Wharf. If they've taken her somewhere else, then your Doctor's right, we're only going to tip our hand."

"I've never heard of aliens not being returned, Jack. I'm sure they'll be alright."

"I hope so."

He responded halfheartedly, itching to point out that she didn't even know where they were being held. Then, the question he'd wanted to ask since dinner popped out of his mouth. "Why'd you and the Doctor consent to be registered in the first place?"

A look of shame crossed her face. "When I got stuck on Pete's World after the Daleks and the Cybermen, I didn't exist here. I was grateful for Torchwood's help in giving me an identity. And if in some of the paperwork, I declared myself an extraterrestrial, well, it was the truth, wasn't it? They did the same for Mum, and she was too happy to be with Pete again to think about it. I mean, she complained when they registered Tony, but it was just a piece of paper, and me and Pete were so wrapped up in Torchwood that it didn't matter by then, not really."

Taking a deep breath, she confessed, "The Doctor didn't see it that way, of course. He said he didn't need a new identity. He was the Doctor and wasn't going to give that up. But I begged and pleaded with him and told him that he was just being stubborn, and he was stuck here now and might as well make the most of it. It still didn't go over very well, so I told him that I wouldn't speak to him again until he completed the paperwork."

Jack's expression was both awed and appalled. "You blackmailed him?"

Embarrassed, she looked down at the ground. "Mm-hm. Took six days, and I was scared he was going to be arrested the entire time, but he walked into our bedroom one night with the registration papers filled out, and we haven't talked about it since."

"I take it talking wasn't the only thing you refused to do."

"Jack!" Then, blushing, she gave him a shy grin. "That might have had something to do with it."

"Wait until I tell the Doc that he gave in to sexual blackmail!"

"Jack Harkness, you will not!"

"Probably not," he allowed with a chuckle.

"Don't," she pouted before grinning. "So, you and the Doctor take turns, or . . . ?"

"Cheeky question, Ms. Tyler. You sure you want the answer to that?"

"Don't know. Maybe?" Then, turning serious, she said, "He's changed so much, yeah? I just have a hard time understanding it. I mean, I know she's his wife and all, but I didn't think he'd . . . ."

"What, Rose?"

"Get over me so fast," she reluctantly admitted. "I know he gave me a human version of him, but I never thought he'd do the domestic thing with someone else. And now I find out she's pregnant. Just seems weird, you know?"

Thinking of the Bad Wolf, Jack answered ruefully. "Believe me; we all think it's a little weird."

When she gave him a funny look, he hastened to explain. "It was as much of a surprise to Melissa as it was to the two of us. But, that doesn't mean it's a bad thing. It just might be a fantastic thing. I really hope it is."

He'd grown contemplative as he spoke, and Rose impulsively gave him a hug. "I'm sure it will. I know you'll make a good dad, and the Doctor's always so patient around kids. Doesn't matter the species, he really connects with them, you know? I remember how shocked I was when he told me he'd been a father. I was still pretty naïve then. I mean, he'd told me he was nine hundred, but he didn't look it, and I had a hard time thinking about how old he really was. But, I can remember how sorry I felt for him then, because no matter how old you are, I don't think it's easy for your kids to die before you do."

"No," he agreed solemnly. "It's not."

"I'm sorry, Jack. I know how bad that was for you. Have you told her the rest?"

"No. I told her that Susan reconciled with us after she died, but I'd rather not tell her what happened after the Titanic crashed. It wasn't her fault. She saved the planet, even if she couldn't save London. I don't want her to feel guilty for things that don't even exist anymore."

"Guess you're right."

They stood in comfortable silence for a while, looking at the rose garden. Then, Rose punched him in the arm. "Think Donna's knocked some sense into him yet?"

"If she hasn't knocked him senseless." Slyly, he asked, "So, you have make-up sex very often?"

"Usually, it's me doing the making up, but, yeah, I think he owes me some fantastic sex later. I swear; some of the things that come out of that man's mouth make me wonder just how much Donna he has in him. He's not so good at censoring what he says anymore. I'm sure he didn't mean to say that Melissa doesn't love you."

Jack knew he'd meant to imply just that, but he answered graciously for Rose's sake. "He's always been rude in this regeneration, Rose, and I had insulted him just seconds before. I probably got what I deserved. Don't worry; I'm not holding it against him."

The relief on her face was plain to see. "Good. I'm going back to the house. You want to come with? Pete's got five hundred channels on telly; I'm sure you could find one to watch for a while."

The last thing Jack wanted was a distraction, but he smiled politely as he turned her down. "You go on ahead. I think I'll spend some time walking around the grounds. Being cooped up inside has temporarily lost its appeal."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. I'm fine, Rose. I just need some fresh air." As he assured her, he was eyeing the roof, wondering how difficult it would be to climb up there. His problems never seemed to be quite as bad when he was contemplating them from a height.

That patented Rose Tyler smile was back on her face. "We'll get them back, you'll see." Then, she was practically skipping towards the house. Jack watched her leave, envying her optimism. Right then, his was in short supply. Accessing his wrist computer, he methodically began to go over the layout for Canary Wharf. It wouldn't hurt to be prepared, just in case.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

He returned to the mansion a little after one. He'd started feeling antsy by himself, and he figured he'd given Rose and the Doctor enough time to reconcile. He wanted to ask them if they knew where the TARDIS would be stored. The more he thought about it, the less he liked just leaving the people he loved to the whims of Torchwood. If they could just get the TARDIS, they could liberate the Doctor and Melissa, go back in time, and spend the next month in ancient Egypt for all he cared. As much as he liked Rose and her family, he had his own family's welfare to consider.

All the noise was coming from the kitchen again, and he briefly wondered if they'd ever left before noticing that both Rose and the Doctor had changed. They wearing black pants and black shirts that were identical to the ones the agents had been wearing the night before. Donna was intently peering at a laptop, the Doctor at her side. He was looking over her shoulder and taking notes, but they stopped what they were doing when he walked into the room.

"Captain."

The Doctor greeted him in that clipped voice that always set his teeth on edge, and Jack had to quash the urge to reply belligerently. He managed a nod before opening the refrigerator to look for a drink. Opening a can of blue Vitex, he poured some into his mouth and then did his best not to choke on the awful flavor.

"That's not one of Dad's finest, but Mum likes it. We got some imported cola in the pantry if you want a bottle."

Rose was doing her best to make him feel at ease, and the Doctor surprisingly stood up to do the same. "That stuff isn't any worse than what's popular for refreshment in the fifty-first century, right, Jack? In fact, I'd say it tastes a lot like Sudpix, just without the alcohol. Did you have Sudpix on Boeshane?"

"Probably in the capital, but not on the peninsula. Alcohol wasn't allowed on the peninsula. Of course, I made up for that fact my first year in training for the Time Agency." Smiling at the memories, he added, "And, yeah, it tastes a little like Sudpix, but I always thought Sudpix tasted like swill anyway."

Immediately, the Doctor pulled out a bottle of cola, unscrewed the top, and handed it to him "Right, you preferred hypervodkas didn't you? You should ask the Doctor to take you and Emma to a little bar called Rick's on Canteffa. Well, when I say little . . . anyway, they have the smoothest vodkas in the galaxy, and boast four hundred fifty-seven different varieties. You could spend quite some time deciding which one you like best.

Inexplicably, the suggestion upset the former Time Agent. "That's the Casablanca planet, isn't it? Think I'll have to pass. I hate that movie. Rick was a jerk."

They were all staring at him, and Jack realized he probably sounded crazy. "Sorry. I know it's a classic, and it's irrelevant, anyway. Thanks for the cola, Doctor." He knew that the gesture was as close to an apology as he'd get, and he readily accepted it.

"You're welcome, Captain. Take a look at what Donna managed to uncover while Rose and I were showering."

It was telling that Jack didn't make a single suggestive comment, and when he sat down next to Donna she gave his hand a quick squeeze. "I hacked into Torchwood's central server." Grinning, she informed him, "They're in Cardiff, specifically the Hub, although I don't recognize some of the schematics."

Immediately, he turned the laptop towards him. "That's because those tunnels collapsed during World War II. They were sealed off and abandoned. I'm probably the only one who even remembers they existed now. We used them as holding cells and interrogation rooms. It was packed the day they collapsed. We weren't just dealing with aliens at the time, but certain German prisoners we'd captured that we didn't want registered with the Red Cross."

"Are you telling me that you tortured them for information?"

The disgust in the Doctor's voice was all too clear, and Jack bristled, hurling his own accusation in response. "Yeah, like the Time War was fought with the Geneva Convention in mind!"

"That's not helping, Jack."

Donna's soft voice shamed him more than anything the metacrisis Doctor might have said. She had all the Doc's memories in her head, and must know how badly that would have hurt.

"Sorry, I don't know what's come over me. I know I shouldn't have brought that up." Bending over, he harshly rubbed his temples. "I just have this horrible headache, and a really, really bad feeling. Something's wrong."

As soon as he had said that out loud, he knew exactly what was wrong. Anguished, he looked to Donna for help. "It's the Doc. Something's wrong with the Doc. We have to get them out of there!"

"Are you sure?"

Donna asked the question as gently as she could, but the Captain didn't react well to being challenged.

"Of course I'm sure! I just told you, didn't I? We have to get them out of there now!"

She immediately accepted his answer. While she hadn't been told that the three of them shared a psychic bond, she'd wondered after Melissa had let a few things slip when discussing Jack's newfound mortality. The Doctor, however, did not share her faith.

Almost patronizingly, he said, "I know you're concerned, Captain, but there's no proof that either one of them has been harmed."

Lurching upright, Jack shook with anger, more than ready to beat some sense into the smug ass before realizing he was allowing his bond mate's pain to affect his judgment. Balling his hands into fists, he managed to keep his rage under tremulous control.

"I'm all the proof you need. Something's wrong, and the Doc's the one in trouble."

Before the two men could engage in more than a staring contest, Donna quietly interjected. "You're bonded to both of them, aren't you, Jack?"

Still glowering at the Doctor, he managed to nod.

"But that's impossible!"

Her dander up, Donna let her irritation show. "Oi! Doctor! You can say impossible 'til the sun sets, but it's not going to change the fact that the Doctor's in trouble. So, I'd suggest you sit down, close your trap, and help us get a plan together for breaking them both out of there." Abruptly, she turned to Rose. "You got any ideas for getting the TARDIS out of Canary Wharf?"

Not understanding half of what had just been said, Rose nevertheless was more than ready to help. "The Doctor and I have the best chance of getting in the building. We've still got clearance, and Jake'll be able to tell us where they've taken her. Shouldn't be too hard to get inside. I've still got my key."

"We can go with you."

"No, Captain, you can't. Canary Wharf is a restricted access facility. All you'd do is get us all captured." Realizing how he'd sounded, he quickly softened his tone. "You'd be more help in Cardiff, Jack. You know that Torchwood as well as anyone in this universe."

"Melissa can't use my teleport. It utilizes the Time Vortex. She can't go through that unprotected right now. If the Doc's incapacitated, that means we're going to be dependent on the TARDIS to get them out of there."

"We'll be right behind you. It shouldn't take long at all to find the ship. And once we have the TARDIS, they won't be able to stop us. We'll rendezvous with you and Donna in Cardiff as soon as we can. Agreed?"

It was a plan short on specifics, but they were in a hurry and really didn't have a choice. Immediately, Rose, Donna and Jack agreed to his plan. As soon as the metacrisis Doctor and Rose pulled out of the driveway, Jack grabbed Donna's hand and teleported to Cardiff.


	6. The Measure of a Gingerbread Man

Author's Notes - Thanks to **nat-nav** and **dwatlaskrhtcm** for reviewing the last chapter. In answer to nat-nav's comment, I'm embarrassed to say that it took me a year to write The Emissary, and I'm still writing Careless Benevolence. Don't worry, I know what's going to happen in my head. Surprisingly, I don't suffer from writer's block much at all.

This chapter has Jack and Donna infiltrating Torchwood Cardiff and finding the Doctor and Melissa. Hope you enjoy.

* * *

><p>Appearing abruptly behind the stadium in Cardiff, Donna and Jack took a moment to recover from the teleport and get their bearings. Thankfully, no one had seen them appear.<p>

"Are we going to wait for them, or are we going into the Hub?"

Donna knew what the answer would be, but she wanted to remind Jack that he wasn't alone. The Captain's jaw was clenched in pain and determination, and for a second she wasn't sure he'd heard. But the look on his face told her just what he thought of waiting.

"We're going to walk around like good little tourists, checking out surveillance on the tourist entrance and the lift. Once we've seen that it's impossible to get in that way, we're going to take a stroll to the Bluetown Tunnel. There's an abandoned entrance inside that I sometimes use when I want to impress Ianto with my disappearing skills. If we're in luck, it will be just as abandoned here."

"And if it's not?"

"We'll have to bluff our way in, Donna. I don't think we can afford to wait for the Doctor and Rose to appear with the TARDIS."

Sympathetically, Donna gave Jack's hand a squeeze. "Come on, gorgeous. We can skip the first bit and go straight to that secret entrance of yours. With any luck, we can have the Doctor and Melissa out of the Hub before anyone knows they've gone, TARDIS or no."

"Has anyone ever told you how brilliant you are?"

"Not nearly enough. You can rectify that as we walk. Got to have something to take your mind off things." Smiling innocently, she pulled out a battered leather wallet. "Now, I know that you are perfectly capable of charming your way out of a tough situation, but I was wondering if some psychic paper might help convince anyone we run into that we're from, say, Torchwood Glasgow?"

"Donna, I could kiss you!"

Taking his arm as they began to walk toward the tunnel, she beamed. "I'm going to hold you to that, you know."

The entrance was indeed abandoned. Unfortunately, the old tunnel was also partially collapsed, and it took almost two hours of carefully picking their way through rubble for them to emerge dusty and disheveled in a room that looked like it had last been used for storage in the early twentieth century.

Donna had been forced to take the lead when Jack's distress at the Doctor's and Melissa's torture had manifested itself as a blinding headache. He'd stumbled along behind her until twenty minutes ago when the pain had gradually lessened to the point where he could function, although Donna felt sorry for anyone they might meet. His temper was barely held in check.

Brushing the worst of the dust and debris off Donna's jacket, Jack impatiently consulted his wrist strap. "They're in the old section, which is clear across the Hub. We're going to have to bluff our way through."

"Why not tell them the truth? We just breached security. Sounds like something this Control might do."

Already walking down the dimly lit hallway, he smiled dangerously. "If we're lucky, it won't come to that, but I like your thinking. You should do well in the field when we get back home."

"What? You don't think I should spend the rest of my life filing in the archives?" Almost running to keep up with his longer strides, she briefly wondered what her future with Torchwood would be before concentrating on the task at hand.

"I think that would be a waste of that brain of yours, Donna Noble. But, I don't want you Weevil hunting, either. We'll just have to wait and see."

She didn't reply since they could both see the much brighter light at the end of the tunnel. Slowing down, Jack checked his wrist strap and noted with relief that they were alone for the moment. Stepping out of the disused storage area, he took a deep breath and headed towards the archives. Hoping they wouldn't end up needing to be rescued themselves, Donna followed closely behind.

Ianto Jones was not in the archives, but Jack noted with a smirk that everyone working there wore a suit. Five men and two women were busy cataloguing items, and Donna noted that much of it was the same as what she'd been sorting through at home. Unlike Ianto, these people didn't see anything amiss with two strangers cutting through their work space, and Jack grimly concluded that there were far more Torchwood employees in Cardiff than he had hoped.

Once they were past the archives, they took the stairs silently, meeting no one. On the main level, Jack ducked into an alcove to take another reading with his computer. They were going to have to cross through the workstations, which were filled with twenty people. Instructing Donna to follow his lead, he readied the psychic paper, just in case.

They weren't challenged until they had almost reached the older tunnels. Putting on his most dazzling smile, Jack coolly greeted the junior researcher who had been sitting where Tosh's workstation had been in their own reality. Sticking out his hand, he oozed charm.

"Captain Jack Harkness, Control. You know, you're the first person to even acknowledge our presence. Considering how badly Torchwood Cardiff is failing the surprise security inspection, you will be one of the few highlights of our report. What's your name?"

Looking like a scared rabbit, the young man stammered, "Gavin, sir. I just started working here this week. No one told me about a surprise inspection."

Donna grinned as she held out her hand. "Then it wouldn't have been a surprise, would it, Gavin? I'm Donna Noble, Captain Harkness' supervisor. He's right, you know, you're the only one who's even asked who we are. I'm impressed; I think you have quite a future here."

"Really?"

"Oh, yes! In fact, give me your last name, and I will personally see to it that you are given a raise for such exemplary conduct."

"It's Turville, Gavin Turville, Ms. Noble. And, thank you! Junior researchers don't make very much to start out with, you know."

"Don't worry, I'm sure you'll advance quickly, Gavin. Now, since this is a surprise inspection, we're going to expect you to keep our presence to yourself, at least until we speak to the Director."

"Oh, yes, of course, I understand. I mean, Dr. Harper isn't going to like failing a security inspection, but I know not to go against Control."

Growing impatient, Jack wrapped it up. "See that you don't," he said with the hint of a warning. Then, he politely suggested to Donna that they continue their investigation. Confidently, they both walked into the tunnels that would lead them to the Doctor and Melissa, not daring to look back.

As soon as they were in the clear, Donna slumped against the wall. "No matter how many times I do that, I still get nervous."

"You did fine." Jack's reassurance was perfunctory as he again studied his wrist computer. "They're three levels down, about a hundred yards down that way. There aren't as many people, but there are a hell of a lot more surveillance cameras. I don't know how long we're going to have once we get there. Rose and the Doctor better contact us soon."

"I'm sure they will."

He didn't bother to answer. Donna was being optimistic for both their sakes, but Jack had his doubts about the blue suited Doctor. Instead, he led her down the hall to the first set of stairs.

The lower level was filled with detention cells. There was a bed, sink and toilet in each one, and a row of showers and exercise equipment at the end of the hall, which led him to believe that aliens might be kept far longer than three days. It definitely had a prison-like feel, right down to the guards at the end of each hallway. Astonishingly, the guards didn't challenge their presence at all, although that might have had something to do with the small talk that Donna exchanged with them, and his use of Owen's name.

Most of the aliens were familiar to him. There seemed to be an inordinate number of blowfish. But, others were as foreign as anything he'd ever seen during his stint at the Time Agency or his travels with the Doctor. One purple hued creature actually had wings, and he (or possibly she) looked woefully cramped in the small enclosure. He tried not to think about the prisoners' plights as he continued to lead Donna through the maze of passageways. His thoughts were focused on just two aliens at the moment.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

When they finally reached the correct level, Jack had to swallow bile. There weren't any cells here, just a large gray room with an Attique scanner, several operating theaters and row upon row of bleak, empty rooms with hospital beds. With a sick feeling in his stomach, he marched past the unoccupied rooms until he found who they'd been searching for.

Donna gave a little gasp as they both ran to the Doctor, who was lying awkwardly on the floor, his left arm pinned underneath his chest. As Jack gently turned him over, they could both see the terrible bruises around his forehead. No amount of shaking could wake him, and after a quick assessment, they both realized that he wouldn't regain consciousness anytime soon.

"At least we know he's healing," Donna faintly offered. They'd discussed the fact that one or both of the Time Lords might be incapacitated, but to see the Doctor so reduced upset them more than either cared to admit.

"Healing from what?" Jack asked bitterly, finally gathering enough courage to turn his attention to his wife.

She was markedly pale, her body hooked up to a half dozen monitors. Her heart rate was elevated, and there were the same bruises around her head as the Doctor. Her IV bag was half full, and when he looked down to see where it was connected to her, he saw the vicious cuts to her wrist and the black bruise on her left arm. Stifling a sob, he tenderly stroked her cheek, assuming that her condition was much more serious than the Doctor's.

"Jack?"

His voice was gruff with emotion. "What have they done to you two, Sweetheart?"

"Not as bad as it looks." She groggily tried to reassure him as she forced herself to wake, but the evidence was stacked against her.

Leaving the Doctor's side for a moment, Donna stood quietly next to Jack. "Melissa, can you tell us what happened to the Doctor? He's slipped into a healing state. He won't be conscious for a while."

"Knew he was hurt worse than he said." She answered slowly, still trying to force herself into alertness. "The mind probe-he said it was only a headache."

The two would-be rescuers shared looks of alarm. Taking Melissa's hand, Jack tried to keep his voice even. "Did they use it on you, Sweetheart?"

"Yes, but he stopped them." She was more aware now, and could sense Jack's anguish. "I'm okay, really."

"If you're so okay, why are you hooked up to all this equipment?"

"Not important," she answered dismissively as she attempted to sit up. But, she was weak with hunger and extremely nauseous. Groaning, she let Jack support her as two separate monitors began to beep incessantly. "We need to leave."

"You're in no condition to run," he countered, all too aware of their predicament. Glancing briefly at his wrist strap, he realized they'd run out of time. "Where the hell is the TARDIS?"

Even Donna didn't have an answer to that question. Grim, he unstrapped his Vortex Manipulator and handed it to her. "Take the Doc and get out of here. If you aren't contacted by Rose, get back here as soon as he wakes up. I'll stay with her."

"Go with them, Jack. I'll be fine."

Melissa's argument would have carried more weight if she hadn't been leaning against him so heavily. "Not in a million years. You rest. We'll get out of here soon enough."

Laying her gently back on the bed, he held her hand as the heart monitors continued to sound their alarms. She was too exhausted to protest. Donna opened her mouth to say something, but Jack just shook his head.

"Take the Doc and get out of here, Donna. You know it's the right thing to do, and we're running out of time."

Agonized by the prospect of leaving them to whatever fate awaited, Donna finally nodded. "They'll be here soon. They have to be."

"Sure."

With one final, sorrowful glance, Donna crouched next to the Doctor and activated the teleport. In a flash, they were gone. Jack could hear the sound of footsteps in the hallway. Moving quickly, he flattened himself against the wall near the door, hoping he could subdue the lone figure he'd seen approaching on his wrist computer.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Barreling inside the small room, it took a second for Owen to register that the Doctor was nowhere to be seen, and a second longer to realize that a man had closed the door behind him as soon as he had entered. Staring at the intruder who was pointing a gun at him, the medic became belligerent.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing with my patient? And where the hell is the Doctor? He promised he wouldn't try to escape."

When pushed, Jack could be just as confrontational as Owen, and he was definitely to that point. "The Doctor's in a coma. I don't care what kind of deal he made with you; I'm not letting Torchwood kill him. What are you in this universe, Owen, some sort of fucking moron? Did you buy your medical degree, or are all the doctors as incompetent as you? Now, tell me what the hell's wrong with her and maybe, just maybe, I won't end your sorry existence."

The charge that he'd overlooked the Doctor's injuries wounded Dr. Harper deeply. Even so, he was angry at being insulted, and responded in typical Owen fashion. "Are you going to shoot me, or are you going to shut the fuck up while I exam her?"

Jack gestured negligently with his gun for Owen to continue. Shaken, but not letting his captor see his anxiety, Dr. Harper checked the heart monitors that were beeping in protest before resetting them. Then, he examined Melissa.

"Ms. Morgan, can you hear me?"

Slowly, she opened her eyes, although they remained unfocused. "Where am I? I remember . . . I remember I hurt."

"You went into cardiac arrest after being subjected to a lie detector test. Can you tell me if you're in any pain now?"

Jack stiffened at Owen's words, taking a few steps towards her. She looked so frail, and he had no idea if her arrest had been real or staged. Putting himself on the opposite side of the bed, he held her hand while keeping his gun aimed straight at the physician's chest.

Finally awake, Melissa looked up at Owen and reminded herself that this was not the man she had known. Looking at him dazedly, she made her voice intentionally weak. "Was I in an accident? Everything hurts. So cold . . . ." Even as she let her words trail off as if she were losing consciousness once again, she was mentally reassuring Jack that she wasn't as bad as she seemed.

Standing in the sunshine of the mountain valley, the red grass rippling in the breeze, she gave him a crushing hug. "The Doctor said you'd come!"

Gripping her just as tightly, he asked anxiously, "You sure you're okay, Sweetheart?"

"I'm not perfect," she admitted with a shrug. "I think my stomach's going to cave in from hunger. But, we staged the cardiac arrest to see what sort of man this Owen is. He seems to be relatively decent."

All the while, Jack was holding a less than friendly conversation with Owen. "So much for Torchwood's version of quarantine! She could have died!"

"It was an accident! The technicians ignored her brain scans and blood work. If you care for her at all, you won't attempt to move her until we can determine the underlying cause of her anemia. She's been given Dextran, but she could crash again if it doesn't increase her hemoglobin levels."

"She's that anemic?"

Checking with Melissa, he found out that Owen was telling him the truth about the anemia, although she had no idea if it was as bad as he said. Reluctantly, he pocketed his gun.

Play his part all too easily, Jack anxiously asked, "Will she recover?"

Owen suddenly became guarded, and the Captain realized that the doctor had no clue how to assess or treat the range of symptoms Melissa had offered him. Manipulating him was going to be ridiculously simple. For an instant, Jack saw his friend standing alive before him, and then he brutally repressed that image. The Owen he'd come to know and respect was dead twice over. The man in front of him was nothing but a distorted reflection in a fun house mirror.

"I don't like losing patients. I promise you that I'll get to the bottom of this. No one is going to hurt her again."

"They shouldn't have hurt her in the first place."

The jab hit its mark, and Dr. Harper deflated, suddenly looking tired and worn. "No, they shouldn't have. Christ, I don't understand why Control didn't make an exception for them both in the first place. Everyone knows the Doctor saved us from the Cybermen."

"And now he's in a coma. You'll excuse me if I don't quite trust you. I'm staying right here until she's strong enough to walk out that door. I want a chair and some food, and if you even think about turning me over to your little torture squad, I will contact my team and personally make sure you're the first to die when they teleport in guns blazing."

Jack wasn't sure that Owen believed in the existence of a team or the threat he might face, but in the end it didn't matter. He'd given the doctor an excuse to do the right thing, and he jumped at the chance. "Fair enough. If anyone asks, you're from Control investigating the use of the mind probe on an unhealthy subject. I'll have a chair and something sent up in a few minutes."

Turning to leave, Owen realized something important. "What's your name, mate?"

Jack smiled his first genuine smile since entering the Hub. "It's Jack. Captain Jack Harkness. And, Owen, I'm glad it was you."

On that cryptic note, Owen stared at him in puzzlement, but didn't press for an answer. After checking Melissa's vital signs one last time, he quietly walked out of the room. True to his word, Jack was sitting in a chair with a hot meal on his lap within minutes.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

As soon as the attendants had left, Jack helped Melissa to sit up. Slowly, she ate a plate of baked salmon, boiled potatoes and green beans. There was even a little cup of pudding and a hard roll. She wanted to wolf it all down at once, but knew her stomach was too unsettled to inhale the meal, so she forced herself to eat in a far more ladylike manner. By the time she had finished every last bite, she was fighting the thought of queasiness, but felt much closer to her normal self.

"There's not another plate of that, is there?"

"Sorry, no." Handing her a glass of water, he couldn't help but smile. She was still pale, but not so deathly white. "I'll fix you some pancakes as soon as we get back to the TARDIS."

"Only if you have maple syrup."

They'd already silently discussed the fate of the TARDIS, Donna and the Doctor, and Rose and her Doctor. Jack was delighted to find that she was privately calling the metacrisis Time Lord Fred and had quickly adopted the name. Neither one of them saw him as the Doctor, no matter that until recently he'd been the same man.

"So, do you think Fred and Rose were captured?"

Melissa was making idle conversation as she thought about the best way to broach the subject of their own escape. She didn't want to be waiting for rescue like some silly damsel in distress. Unfortunately, she feared that Jack was all too ready to make her do just that.

"I don't know what's worse, thinking they've been captured, or thinking that something's happened to the TARDIS."

"That's a cheery thought. I really don't like the idea of being stuck on Pete's World for the rest of my life. I have a feeling that aliens aren't exactly welcome on this planet."

"You think?"

Leaning down, he intended to kiss her forehead and suggest she get some sleep, but she wrapped her arms around his neck until he was kissing her lips. When she finally let him pull away, they were both extremely frustrated.

"I've changed my mind. I want my clothes back. I want to get out of here and find a nice little tropical island. How about it, Jack? You, me, the Doctor, lots of sex. It'll be fun."

He sighed in exasperation, although his eyes held more than a hint of amusement. Her argument wasn't so much sexual blackmail as blatant enticement, but it was just as effective. "Personally, I like the hospital gown look on you. I'm sure the gap in the back show's off your ass very nicely."

"It's making me cold," she grumped.

Wordlessly, he took off his coat and tucked it around her as he eased her back onto the bed. Conceding that she wasn't going anywhere at the present, she tucked her nose into the collar and breathed deeply. "Fifty-first century pheromones-you really do smell wonderful, you know."

"Of course I do." Smoothing out her hair, he gently massaged the bruises on her temple.

Even as she relaxed, she complained. "I don't want to sleep, Jack. We need to leave."

His voice was gentle and soothing, lulling her further into a peaceful stupor. "There's a good reason you're so tired, you know. We'll get out of here soon; I promise. Just rest a little more."

She found herself agreeing. It was wonderful to have the pounding in her head eased by his hands, and she was finally beginning to feel warm. Only one thing kept nagging at her consciousness. Just as he thought she had relaxed to the point of slumber, she murmured her worries to him.

"Did I make a mistake?"

"No, Sweetheart," he assured her tenderly. "I don't think you made a mistake at all."

Continuing to massage her temples, Jack thought about the two lives growing inside her. He'd meant what he'd told Rose earlier. Melissa's pregnancy certainly had been a shock, and it wasn't anything that the three of them would have chosen. But the more he thought about it, the more he thought that it was going to be fantastic.

And then, the reality of their situation came crashing down on him. If Fred and Rose didn't arrive with the TARDIS soon, he would have to rely on this Owen Harper's goodwill for their escape. No matter how much the man resembled his dead friend, that thought left him decidedly uneasy.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Rose and her Doctor had been delayed for a very good reason. They'd searched Canary Wharf from the lowest basement all the way up to the penthouse where Pete conducted his day to day business. No one had admitted to seeing the blue box. Jake had even checked the surveillance footage of the building for the previous night and found no evidence that the TARDIS had been delivered to Torchwood I at all.

Extremely disappointed, Rose sat at her computer terminal, trying to find some hint of where the time ship had been taken. Frustrated, she banged the keys.

"We'll find it, Rose."

"'Course we will. We have to. Got people counting on us, don't we?"

"Jack's very resourceful. I'm sure he won't have any trouble getting them out of the Hub."

She couldn't muster his optimism on that point. The longer they didn't hear from Jack, the more she worried about all of them, especially the Doctor. She didn't understand how, but Jack knew the Doctor had been hurt. What if something horrible had happened to him? What if he regenerated? Would he be too sick or too confused to move?"

Noticing her distress, the Doctor became solemn. "I promise you, Rose, they'll be fine. Donna's brilliant, and she'll come up with a plan even if the Captain fails. I'm just as worried as you are, but right now, we need to focus on finding the TARDIS."

Biting her lower lip, Rose nodded. Reluctantly, she suggested the one thing that she didn't want to do. "I think we should go see Pete."

Studying her for a moment, he weighed their options. "I think you're right. He'll be able to tell us where the TARDIS is even if he has no intention of assisting us."

"Oh, he'll help, alright. Mum's already told him that she'll take Tony and go back to our own universe if he doesn't."

That revelation didn't surprise the Doctor at all. "Good. If he has any sense, he'll be more than willing. Allons-y!"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Donna and the Doctor appeared out of thin air in the middle of a darkened church. Jack had preset the coordinates to St. Cadoc's, hoping that it was abandoned as it was back home. Since no Time War had plagued this universe, there were no Weevils to make it their den, and aside from a few rats living in the choir loft, the church was decidedly empty.

Groaning, Donna attempted to stand, not used to the crude method of transportation. Once she'd gotten her head cleared, she strapped on the Vortex Manipulator to her left wrist and then went to work making the Doctor as comfortable as possible. There wasn't much she could do besides straighten him out. She didn't even have a coat to put on top of him, and she worried that it would get uncomfortably cold if they had to spend the night.

Even though she knew the Doctor couldn't hear her concern, she took his right hand in hers. If nothing else, it made her feel better. "Come on, Spaceman," she whispered, "you need to wake up soon. I have a feeling we're going to have to run before this is all over."

He didn't answer, not that she'd expected him to. Resigned to a long wait, she leaned against the wall behind her. Bored, she tried to decide the best way to tease her friend about his orange clothing once he woke up.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Jack was mentally reviewing all of the deaths he'd experienced in the nineteenth century when Owen walked in to take another blood sample. Seeing his patient sleeping under a heavy wool coat gave him pause. "It's intentionally warm in here."

"She said she was cold."

"She woke? You should have let me know."

Pointing to the surveillance camera, Jack answered bitingly. "You mean we aren't the afternoon's entertainment?"

Owen grimaced. "Those all belong to Control. The feed doesn't even get routed through the Hub unless they deem it necessary. Next time she wakes, pull the nurse's call. I want to see how alert she is."

Storing that odd bit of information away, Jack nodded. "She was still pretty out of it, but she did complain about being cold. That's a good sign, isn't it? That she's aware of her surroundings?"

"Generally, yes."

Frowning, he checked the monitors before pulling the coat away from her body and handing it to Jack. Normally, he would have brought an assistant with him, but with the Doctor's disappearance and the presence of Captain Harkness, he quickly decided against that. By the time he was finished taking three more vials of blood, Melissa's left arm sported new bruises from his inexpertness.

Once they were alone, Jack covered her again with his coat. She hadn't stirred once during Dr. Harper's poking and prodding, but a brief mental check confirmed that she was deeply asleep rather than in a healing state. No doubt her body needed extra time to recover from the trauma she'd been subjected to. Reassured, Jack resumed his earlier mental exercise of recalling every single one of his nineteenth century deaths in order. While somewhat macabre, it did keep his mind off the tests Owen was currently running.

Two hours later, he had started on the twentieth century when Owen stood outside the door and motioned for him to come out into the hall. Gripping his gun, Jack warily complied. Owen was tight lipped, his expression forbidding. Instantly, Jack was on guard.

"What's wrong?"

"There aren't any fucking cameras that can see us here, and I need to speak to you in private."

"Go on."

"First of all, Control has issued a shot to kill order for the Doctor, citing his escape."

Jack wasn't surprised, although his stomach suddenly felt like he'd eaten something rotten. "And Melissa?"

"I'm sorry, mate. I know she's in no condition to be moved, but you've got to get her out of here before Control interprets her test results. I've brought you her clothes as well as the Doctor's."

Taking the sack full of clothes, Jack asked, "Her anemia?"

"It's improved marginally, but that's not the problem." Glancing briefly at his patient through the open door, he nervously faced Jack. "She probably isn't aware of it yet, but she's pregnant. Several unknown compounds in her blood have risen steadily since the first test, and the computer finally identified one as being a close match to hCG. You have got to get her out of here, or she will be classified as a biological threat and treated accordingly."

"This place is insane!"

Owen didn't try to defend Torchwood. Instead, he pushed small backpack into Jack's hands. "I've filled this with food and water. Find the Doctor; get back into your spaceship; and get the hell off this planet. In twenty-five minutes, I'm going to release smoke bombs in the Hub. I've given you a map. You should be able to walk out the tourist entrance with no questions asked even if you have to carry her. Once you're out, keep walking and keep out of sight."

"Won't Control know it's you?"

"Don't worry about me. I know a few things about Control that will keep me safe from reprisals." Checking his watch, Owen continued, "Better hurry; you now have twenty-three minutes."

Jack was stunned. He'd misjudged this Owen terribly. "Thanks."

Dr. Harper deflected his praise. "You can thank me by getting the hell out of here. You now have twenty-two minutes."

Jack watched him stride down the corridor and then quietly entered the room. Melissa was still sleeping, and it took a solid minute of gentle shaking and cajoling to get her to open her eyes. As soon as she did, he was in her mind, explaining exactly what needed to be done. They decided that she should continue her charade as much as possible for the benefit of the cameras.

"Jack?"

"Hello, Sweetheart. Look, I found your clothes. Why don't I help you change into them? You'll be much warmer."

"Can we go home now?"

Resisting an impulse to glance at the camera, Jack shook his head. "Not yet, but Owen told me you're well enough to go back to your room. He's going to let me stay with you until your quarantine's over."

"Okay." Pretending to be weak and slightly confused, she watched Jack turn off the monitors before making a half-hearted attempt at changing. He was quickly by her side, assisting and trying not to grin as she mentally described in great detail all the salacious things she had planned for him as soon as they were all safe.

She thought his insistence on tying her boots was a little over the top, but appreciated his attention to detail nonetheless. Leaning against him, she let him lead her to the toilet. Since there were no cameras in the tiny room, they spent the next five minutes planning their escape.

"Ready?"

Her patience wearing thin, Melissa snapped. "I'm fine, Jack. I'm cold and a little tired, but I am more than ready to get out of here and find the Doctor."

He ignored her irritation. "Good. If we get separated, keep going and meet me at St. Cadoc's."

"We're not getting separated."

Her voice held the threat of violence, and he was forcibly reminded that he was dealing with a cranky Time Lord, not a frail human. Even pregnant and anemic, she could probably run him into the ground if she had to. "Fine, we're not going to be separated. Just promise me you won't do anything stupid to try to protect me. I don't want anything happening to our children because you had to play the hero."

She might have exploded at the jibe, but when she realized what he'd said about the pregnancy, she found herself ridiculously happy instead. "Our children?"

He gave her a smile that lit up the tiny, bleak room. "Ours—the three of us—no matter who the father turns out to be. Now, come on, we need to get the Doc his clothes before someone decides to shoot him for crimes against fashion."

She hugged him in pure relief before rummaging through the sack with the Doctor's clothes. Finding the sonic screwdriver, she slipped it into her pants pocket. Then, she deliberately slumped her shoulders and leaned against Jack's sturdy frame. When they were once again in sight of the surveillance cameras, she looked to be barely able to stand, much less attempt an escape.

Their slow trek through the tunnels was tedious, but Jack had timed it almost to the minute. They were only a hundred feet away from the tourist entrance when alarms began to sound and the entire area filled with thick, dense smoke. Picking Melissa up, he felt her entire body go limp, and marveled at her acting skills. Making sure they weren't the first people through the door, he attached himself to the back of a large crowd, following everyone outside.

The most difficult part of their escape was avoiding the well meaning emergency responders. In the end, Melissa was forced to use the sonic screwdriver to incapacitate a very insistent paramedic who had literally pulled Jack towards a waiting ambulance. As soon as he was taken care of, however, the two walked leisurely hand in hand away from the fringes of the crowd. Thankfully, the ambulance had been well back, and they were already too distant for any Torchwood employee to recognize her as an escapee.

They avoided CCTV as much as possible, but both breathed a sigh of relief when they reached the neglected church without incident several hours later. The place was thoroughly boarded up, but the couple was able to pry most of the boards away from the main door, and the sonic screwdriver made fast work of the iron locks. The rusty hinges gave way with a squeak, spilling dusky light into the darkened sanctuary.

"Donna! Doctor!"

Donna popped into view, acting indignant. "What are you trying to do, wake the dead?" Immediately, she smiled, running to Melissa to give her a warm hug. "I'm so glad to see you up and about! You alright?"

"Well enough. How's the Doc?"

The smile faded from her face. "Still out of it. Been bored, to tell you the truth. The rats aren't the best company."

"Better than those assholes at Torchwood," Jack responded darkly. "Control's put out a shoot to kill order on the Doc."

"He's going to love that. Have you heard from Rose and the other Doctor?"

"No, but now that we're all relatively safe, I think we can risk calling them. They shouldn't be able to trace your mobile with the modifications the Doctor's made to it."

Without comment, Donna handed Jack her phone. She didn't want to be the one to tell Rose and the Doctor what had happened to the two Time Lords while in Torchwood custody. Nor did she want to be the one to discover that those two had been captured at Canary Wharf.

Seeing that Melissa had quietly gone over to sit by the Doctor, Donna sat wearily on a pew. She thought a prayer wouldn't go amiss in this setting, so she offered up a silent plea for protection to whatever deity might be listening. She might have the Doctor's memories, but that didn't mean she couldn't cling to her own traditions and beliefs.

Melissa brushed her fingers through the Doctor's hair, wincing as she saw the yellow bruises on his temples. He'd hidden his own distress far better than she thought possible. "We've got your clothes. They look much better on you than those ridiculous orange scrubs." Pausing a moment, she confessed quietly, "You were just brilliant, you know. I don't know what I'd do without you, Beloved."

He didn't answer. Sitting beside him, she wondered if they would find the TARDIS. A tropical island vacation sounded just about perfect.


	7. Control

Author's Notes - Finally, the identity of Control is revealed. And, I have to warn you that this one ends somewhat on a cliffhanger, but it was that or double the chapter length. Hope you enjoy!

And, a big thank you as always to **dwatlastrhtcm** for giving me feedback on the last chapter.

* * *

><p>Vitex Industries corporate headquarters was located in a stately building near the British Museum. Walking into the plush lobby, Rose nervously wiped her hands on her business trousers. They'd taken the time to return to the mansion and change, wanting to fit in with the corporate culture as much as possible.<p>

Taking her hand, the Doctor grinned goofily, hoping to put Rose at ease. She might be a fantastic Torchwood agent, but the business world intimidated her more than any Dalek ever had. Leaning over, he whispered encouragingly in her ear. "You'll be fine. Trust me on this."

His spot on imitation of Pete made her smile in spite of herself. Taking a deep breath, she approached the receptionist.

"Ms. Tyler! We weren't told to expect you!"

The young woman phrased her comment perfectly to express her dismay at seeing Rose at all. Even after Pete Tyler had publically released the results of a paternity test, most of Vitex considered Rose to be nothing more than a money-grubbing phony. They were much more receptive to Tony's visits, perhaps because they didn't have to worry about the young boy taking over the company any time soon.

"I wanted to surprise Dad."

"Oh. Well, let me make sure he's available. You know Mr. Tyler; he's always got something new cooking. You really might want to call before you visit next time. We wouldn't want you wasting your time coming all this way only to find out that he's in an important meeting."

Putting his hands on the spacious, modern desk, the Doctor leaned over to stare intently at the snide woman. "Since we don't have time to waste, I'm sure you'll be happy to call Pete and let him know we're on our way up. We wouldn't want to have to drag him out of an important meeting."

Intimidated by his frosty stare, the receptionist gulped. "Yes, sir. I'll let him know you're on your way."

They took the lift that went directly to Pete's office. By the time the doors opened, Rose had enough righteous anger fueling her that she wasn't the least bit intimidated by the three security guards who stood in their way.

"If Pete didn't want to see us, he should have locked the lift."

The three guards looked at each other nervously. They really didn't want to be in the middle of a family squabble. Mr. Tyler's daughter looked angry enough to shoot death rays out her eyes, and there was a rumor that maybe, just maybe, she was alien enough to do it.

"Ms. Tyler, all we've been asked to do is ensure that you are unarmed. Mr. Tyler does not allow weapons into his office."

For some reason, that made Rose laugh, although the sound was harsh and brittle. "No, he only allows them at the dinner table. Tony was half scared to death."

"We're not armed," the Doctor added calmly. "We simply want to talk."

The lone female guard blatantly stared at his trousers. "We can see that, sir. You and Ms. Tyler are not carrying any guns. Mr. Tyler has instructed us to allow you to enter if you give us your word that you carry no weapons of any kind."

He stifled a grin. Pete must be very worried indeed, but it boded well that he still took them at their word. "I assure you that Rose and I are unarmed."

At his words, the guards parted to let them pass. She and the Doctor entered his spacious office, finding her alternate father staring out the window, seemingly lost in thought.

"How's Jacks?"

"How do you think she is?" Rose immediately retorted. "She's got every right to be pissed off at you. You betrayed her by calling Torchwood into her home like she was harboring Cybermen, and then you betrayed the Doctor by telling them that Melissa was a Time Lord!"

The pain on Pete's face was genuine, and after a gulp of air, Rose controlled her own anger. "She took Tony to the zoo. Last I talked to her, she was thinking of staying the night in the city and visiting the museum in the morning. You know how much Tony likes the mummies."

Pete inwardly gave thanks. If Jackie took Tony to the museum, he'd insist on coming to visit the office, and his wife knew that very well. It might be his only chance to beg for her forgiveness. If only he could give her a reason to do so.

"I'm sorry, Rose. I should have explained Torchwood's policy thoroughly to the Doctor and then allowed him to make the decision."

"Yeah, you should have," she agreed fiercely before softening her tone. "Can still make it up to him, you know. If we can get the TARDIS, we can pick them up and let them leave, no harm done."

Pete hesitated a second too long for the man in blue.

"I know you're worried about Tony. He's your son; you have every right to be concerned. But the Doctor's worried about his own family. His wife is pregnant with twins, which carries a very high risk for her."

The blood drained from Peter Alan Tyler's face. "You have to believe me, Doctor. I had no idea."

"'Course you didn't," Rose assured him. "We just found out this afternoon. Only happened a few days ago from what I was told."

The Doctor studied Pete's reaction and his jaw clenched. He suddenly had a very bad feeling. "What does it matter if she's pregnant?"

Reluctantly, Pete answered. "Ever since the failed Nostrovite invasion two years ago, Control has taken a very dim view of pregnant aliens. The official policy is to quarantine them until delivery, but in reality most die from the medical testing long before then."

Rose was shocked and appalled. The Doctor was merely disgusted; it fit completely with his view of this Torchwood. "Tell me where the TARDIS is being kept, Pete."

Seemingly at random, he changed the subject. "Neither of you are supposed to be here, you know. Rose, when you left, you said you weren't coming back, that you'd made your choice a long time ago and that you weren't leaving him. I couldn't believe it when Jacks called and said the two of you were here."

"What does that have to do—"

Pete waved her off. "I'm getting there, Rose. After you two left the first time, when Mickey and Jake and a few dozen others were off fighting the Cybermen in Paris and Prague and Lisbon, I had to make a choice, too. I chose to overlook certain discrepancies at Control in order to benefit the greater good. And it has—trust me on this. We're safer than we've ever been, and the aliens who go through proper channels are treated with the utmost courtesy and respect.

He stared hard at the Doctor. "I've done everything in my power to protect you, to protect her. When she was stranded here the first time, she'd just saved us all from the Daleks. Then, she saved our whole existence, and he was more than ready to let bygones be bygones. And to all outward appearances, you appear to be nothing more than human. I was able to convince him that you were just a copy, a human clone, if you will. And if nothing else, he understands the dilemma of being a clone."

"Tell me who has the TARDIS, Pete."

The words came out of the Doctor's mouth like hard gravel. He instinctively knew the answer. Who else had the scientific genius to build the dimension cannon? Who had hated the thought of dying so much that he'd go to any length to avoid it? Who would have been desperate enough to clone himself?

Still, Pete avoided the answer.

"He must know everything by now. They've been in custody for almost a day. Control monitors that facility constantly. I mean, he assured me that he had nothing to do with the Cybermen. He was deliberately kept in the dark, a failsafe, if you will. But, I'm also aware that he took the death of his original self rather hard. It may already be too late. When he fixates on something, he won't let it go, and he's convinced that the Doctor was responsible for his death."

The metacrisis Doctor almost argued that point, but he didn't let himself be sidetracked with a meaningless tangent. Coldly, he pronounced, "Clone or no, John Lumic cannot be allowed to have access to the TARDIS. The temptation to use it would be too great, and he might just be a brilliant enough scientist to figure out how to operate her. Even if the Doctor's already dead, we have to get the ship back. The fate of this universe is at stake."

Rose's entire world suddenly tilted on its axis, and she thumped down onto the austere sofa in Pete's office. "All this time, Control's been run by John Lumic? But he helped us! Helped me! The dimension cannon wouldn't have worked without him. I had no idea how to read the timelines; he did all that for me!"

"Control isn't run by Lumic," Pete grudgingly corrected. "Control is Lumic. He's wired his consciousness into the Torchwood mainframe. Every order, every policy change comes for him. And you have to admit that the world's been better off under his tutelage. Global warming's been reversed; we've engaged in trade negotiations with two galactic empires in order to expand our markets; crime is at an all time low. He's not the monster that his creator was."

"I'd have to argue with that, but we can't afford to waste the time. Where's the TARDIS?"

"It's at Control. He's promised to return it at the end of the quarantine period."

"And you believed him?" Rose stood angrily by the Doctor's side. They'd all been tricked, and Pete Tyler had been at the center of the deception. This was going to kill her mother; she'd been so happy these last few years.

"I had no choice! Everything I've done, I've done to keep you safe, and I'd do it again. Jackie, Tony, you, even the Doctor here-without all of you, I'd be nothing. You think selling Vitex is the only thing I care about?"

"Don't know what to think," she shot back. "You've been lying to us from the start!"

Gently, the Doctor put his arm on Rose's shoulder. "Come on, Rose. We're wasting time. We've got to get the TARDIS away from Lumic, and if they're still alive, she'll be able to find them."

Biting her lip, Rose nodded, too angry to speak. They left Vitex headquarters unmolested. Just as they were walking out of the building, her phone began to ring.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Returning Donna's mobile, Jack quietly informed her of the latest twist to their predicament. It made a difficult situation almost impossible.

"Control's located underneath the Tower. If I don't make it back by the time the Doc wakes up, you need to tell him what's happened. Maybe the three of you could get across the Channel and then make your way to the States. Rose told me that Torchwood's not as welcome there."

"You know neither one of them is going to accept that, Jack."

"She's pregnant, Donna!"

The brash redhead angrily met his gaze. "And you think that makes a bit of difference?"

Resigned, he walked down the aisle to sit beside Melissa. "Control has the TARDIS."

"Where?"

"Somewhere underneath the Tower." Watching the Doctor for a moment, he added quietly, "Fred has a plan."

"Will it work?"

He grinned wryly. "Don't worry; I've already come up with a plan B."

He was flippant, confident and breezily self-assured, which didn't fool her at all. "That bad, huh?"

"Control's run by a clone of a man named John Lumic. He was the madman who created the Cybermen on Pete's world. He wanted to live forever."

"So this is personal."

"It's about to get very personal," he answered forbiddingly.

She didn't attempt to stop him, understanding his anger only too well. "Promise me you'll remember to duck."

He chuckled until he saw the expression on her face. Instantly, he was contrite. "I promise, Sweetheart." Briefly, he touched the Doctor's cheek. "Make sure he doesn't do anything too stupid."

"Make sure he doesn't have to."

"That sounds like a challenge."

Even with the gravity of the situation, she couldn't help but return his smile. "Go away so you can come back. I'm hungry."

That reminded him of the backpack. "Owen gave us some food and water. Don't wait for me." Before she could react, he mouthed the words, "I love you," and then activated his Vortex Manipulator. In a flash, he was gone.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The Doctor woke up much later. In all that time, there'd been no communication from Jack, Rose or the other Doctor. Donna was frantic with worry, although she'd tried her best to hide those feelings from Melissa.

Slowly sitting up, he rubbed his hands over his face. "Probably not the best time to have taken a nap. Donna, where are we?"

We're inside St. Cadoc's. You've been out of it quite a while."

"How'd I get here?"

"Jack's Vortex Manipulator."

Spying Melissa lying on a far pew, he became alarmed. "She shouldn't have used that! It's too dangerous!"

Before he could rush to his bond mate, Donna put a reassuring hand on his arm. "She didn't. You were healing, so Jack made me take you to safety. He and Melissa escaped later with a little help from a Dr. Owen Harper."

Peering into the dark, the Doctor searched for his companion. "So, where is the Captain?"

Donna became grave. "He went to the Tower with Rose and the other Doctor to try to rescue the TARDIS from Control. That was almost eight hours ago." Then, she proceeded to fill him in on everything that had happened since his capture.

He contemplated the stream of bad news as Donna handed him his clothes and, more importantly, his sonic screwdriver. Momentarily ignoring his suit, he sat down next to Melissa. Brushing her hair out of her face, he studied her intently before checking her with the sonic.

The buzzing woke her up. Stretching, she smiled up at him. "You look a lot better."

He almost said, "You don't," but caught himself just in time. "Feel like a new man, although I could do with some food."

Sitting up, she flushed. "Sorry, Donna and I ate all the sandwiches that Owen gave us."

His mouth curved into a grin. "I didn't expect you to go hungry, you know."

"I wish there were some more," she grumbled before getting back on track. "We have to go to the Tower. Jack's waiting for us."

He didn't have the heart to tell her that Jack was no doubt a prisoner by now. "I know, and we will—as soon as we eat and make a plan. Can't go on an empty stomach, eh?"

Knowing it was essential that he replenish some of his energy after healing, she quickly agreed. "I'll get some take away."

"Not during curfew," Donna informed her.

"Oh, right. After, then."

"Why don't you get some rest?" the Doctor suggested. It's going to be a while before you can go out."

"A while?"

"Long enough that you have time to catch a nap. I'll wake you. Aren't you tired?"

"A little," she confessed, trying to downplay her crushing fatigue.

"See? All the more reason to take a nap."

"You promise to wake me?"

"Yes." It was an easy lie. He had every intention of waking her, but not until he'd gotten the TARDIS back from Control.

Lying down, she held his hand until her fingers went slack. Taking advantage of her exhaustion, he then put his hands to her face, easing her into a very deep sleep, hoping it would be long enough to do what he had to do. Donna watched without comment. When he was finished, though, she demanded an explanation.

Impatiently, he justified his actions. "Every system in her body's in flux right now, trying to adapt to the hormones necessary to sustain two embryos. If her body can't adjust, she'll miscarry, and you know how dangerous that would be."

Donna, however, was just as impatient. "I know all that, Doctor. What I want to know is how you think you're just going to waltz out of here by yourself and get to London without being shot."

He answered far too calmly for her taste. "I'm going to take the train. I'm not a big fan of zeppelins. Comes from witnessing the Hindenburg crash, I suppose."

Now she knew he'd finally gone bonkers. "Oi, Spaceman! Did you hear anything I said? You poke your nose out of here and Torchwood will do their best to kill you! Dr. Harper warned Jack about Control's intentions."

The Doctor regarded Donna as if she were a bright child who had just failed a particularly simple exam. "Jack might be upset enough to believe that, but I'm positive Lumic wants to confront me face to face. If he had wanted someone else to kill me, he would have let Torchwood finish what they started."

"You mean," she demanded in appalled disbelief, "that you're going to rely on the logic of a lunatic? You know how deranged that man was!"

"I also know his ego, Donna. He won't perceive me as a threat while he has hostages."

That argument immediately knocked the fight out of her. "You think they're still alive, then?"

"Jack's fine for the moment, so I can only hope that the Doctor and Rose are in a similar state. But, I can't count on Lumic's good will for their continued well being. As long as he has Rose, there's a good chance that he'll decide Jack is superfluous. And, I don't want to think about what he might have planned for the Doctor."

She nodded resignedly. When he put it that way, there really wasn't much choice. As soon as he left, she started to pace, her mind providing her with a thousand different reasons why her friend was most likely wrong.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The Doctor made it to the Tower of London without anyone giving him a second look. Considering the number of soldiers patrolling Paddington Station, he suspected that Owen had deliberately lied to Jack about the shoot to kill order. And, if Dr. Harper had lied about that, then he could have easily lied about the rest.

Buying a ticket like all the other tourists, he strolled through the grounds of the Tower of London, quietly noting the differences between the Tower on Pete's World and the one on Earth. There were no Beefeaters here; all the tours were conducted by white-haired docents, who seemed to relish giving the gory, sordid history of the monarchy's downfall. Passing through what in his own universe would have been the armory, he pointedly ignored the graphic display of the torture and execution devices used throughout the castle's history.

Instead, he took a narrow, circular stone staircase down to the basement, whistling jauntily while he walked. Stealth was not an option; even his sonic screwdriver could not completely disable the variety of surveillance equipment lining the gleaming white hallway. He briefly contemplated smiling and waving, but decided that might insult his host. The whistling should be enough to put the clone on edge.

He met no one, but when he came to the end of the hallway, the corridor to the left lit up like an airplane's emergency exit. Following the tiny lights on the floor, he finally came to an impressively large door. Inwardly, he steeled himself for what he might find. Then, he knocked loudly before pushing open the door.

The center of the massive room was filled by a highly advanced computer mainframe. Glancing at the electronic equipment, the Doctor couldn't help but be impressed by Lumic's genius. What he saw in the far corner made his jaw clench in anger, however. The other Doctor, Rose and Jack were each strapped to a Cyber conversion unit. Only the fact that the machines were powered down kept the Time Lord from rushing towards them brandishing his sonic screwdriver.

"Took you long enough," Jack joked as he watched the Doctor sweep his gaze across the room.

"Oi! I was sleeping."

Looking past his bond mate, he saw Rose nervously biting her lip, and he gave her a sunny smile. "Rose Tyler, I never in my wildest fantasies thought you'd be into bondage."

Her mouth dropped open in shock, and then she deliberately poked her tongue out of her teeth as she grinned back. "Yeah? Well, I never believed you could be into threesomes, or I'd of propositioned Jack on the TARDIS."

Jack chortled while the other Doctor sputtered. "Am I really this annoying?" he asked indignantly. "We're hooked up to Cyber conversion units and all you can do is make clichéd, insinuating jokes?"

The Doctor smirked at his counterpart. "Yep," he replied, popping the 'p' extra loudly just to annoy him further.

When Lumic didn't suddenly appear to gloat over his capture, the Doctor sauntered over to Rose. "Ladies first." Within seconds, he had her standing safely on the ground.

Rubbing her wrists, she watched him as he freed her Doctor and Jack. Jack hugged him exuberantly, and then did the same to Rose, kissing her smack dab on the lips. The other Doctor got no such embrace.

"So," the human Doctor scathingly began, "please tell me you have some sort of plan for actually getting us out of here."

"Ah. Well, you see, I was hoping that after a chat with Mr. Lumic, he might consent to let us walk out."

"Actually, Doctor, I prefer to be called John."

As the hologram of a much younger, fitter, John Lumic appeared behind him, the Doctor studied him with interest. The image was wearing a brown corduroy jacket over a maroon dress shirt, a pair of faded jeans and beat up black trainers. He approached the hologram enthusiastically, holding out his hand.

"Oh, sorry, I forgot; you can't shake hands, can you, John?"

"No, one of the disadvantages of being pure consciousness, I'm afraid. Although, merging my mind with the Torchwood mainframe has been exhilarating."

As the hologram spoke, a large table laden with fresh food rose from the floor. Negligently waving towards it, Lumic politely asked, "Would you care for some refreshment? While I no longer require food, I know that even you require sustenance, Doctor."

Blithely, the Doctor sat at the table, motioning for the others to sit. As he eagerly devoured a piece of cherry pie, he continued his conversation with Lumic. "So, John, I suppose I really must thank you for all of your assistance with the dimension cannon. If Rose hadn't have intervened, I'd be dead, and the Daleks would have destroyed reality. Though, I can't say I was all that surprised when I found out you were Control. I've always been impressed by your abilities."

"As I have been impressed by yours, Doctor. It is rare for me to encounter my intellectual superior, but you are definitely it."

Eating a turkey sandwich, Jack tried not to gag at the bullshit being shoved back and forth between the two men. Fred was not so patient.

"Now, see here, Lumic. You've had your fun. It's time to let us go. The Doctor and his companions will leave in the TARDIS, and everything can go back to the way it was."

The hologram's eyes bored into him. "You have no intention of returning to the status quo, so don't even pretend you do. Your resignation request has already been processed, along with Ms. Tyler's. That can only mean one thing. Peter Alan Tyler's finally going to try to overthrow me, and he wants you two safe while he makes the attempt. Pathetic, really, I would have thought better of him."

The two Doctors, Jack and Rose stared in dismay at Lumic's image, each reaching the same alarming conclusion. The clone wasn't just a megalomaniac; he was a paranoid megalomaniac.

Rose recovered from the shock first. She addressed the hologram ruefully. "Pete's loyal to you; don't ask me why. Says you saved us from global warming." With a more thoughtful look on her face, she added, "The Doctor's right, you know. Guess we all owe you for getting the dimension cannon working and reading the timelines when I was in that alternate reality. You saved everyone. You're a hero."

She stroked his ego enough to get him talking, which had been her hope all along. Although Rose had no idea what his plans were, she knew it couldn't be good. If she could just keep him talking, maybe the two Doctors could put their heads together and manage to find a way out of here.

He agreed immodestly. "I am a hero, Ms. Tyler. I saved the Doctor from the Time Beetle and helped you warn him of the darkness. And, I do think it's time I collected my reward."

Ignoring the conversation, the blue-suited Doctor and Jack began to slowly back away from the table. Focused on the Time Lord and Rose, Lumic paid them no heed.

"Oh?" The Doctor put down his third piece of pie.

The hologram smiled thinly. "Actually, I have you to thank for the opportunity, Doctor. I had thought to simply play with you a little before killing you, but you've given me the means to my salvation."

Suddenly, the Time Lord got a very bad feeling about Lumic's plans. "And that is?"

As exhilarating as it may be, existing as pure consciousness has significant drawbacks. A lack of touch, for one, as you were so kind to point out. To be blunt, I crave the pleasures of the flesh. To taste and smell and touch, to feel the blood pumping through my veins. Such a base, animalistic instinct, and yet so very human."

"Exactly what your creator was willing to give up for immortality."

"Yes, I admit my original made a mistake. He feared death so much that he would have done anything to escape it permanently. I have no such misconception. Having spent the last several years as thought, I know that there are much worse things than death. Existing is not enough. I want to live."

"Then download your consciousness back into your body, Lumic. Rose is right. You have been a hero, and we can help you get your reward."

"Trust you to help me, Doctor? I think not."

Instantly, electricity arced from the ceiling, jolting Jack and Fred with an excruciating, but not lethal amount of current. Both men lay gasping on the ground as Rose worriedly rushed to them.

As the Doctor heatedly protested their treatment, Lumic impatiently interrupted. "That was merely a small demonstration of my powers, Doctor, as you well know. I see all; I know all. My consciousness has expanded to fill the storage capacity of this room. Returning to such a weak vessel is not an option."

Resisting the impulse to rush to Jack's side, he glared at Lumic. "I suppose you want to download your consciousness into me, then?"

Strangely, the image appeared disappointed. "No, no, no, Doctor, I would have thought better of you. I am well aware that your will is too strong to overcome. To attempt such a thing would be disastrous for both of us. I'm going to start with a clean slate."

The Time Lord went absolutely still for a moment, glowering at the image of John Lumic, his rage so strong that Jack could perceive it from across the room. When he spoke, his voice reverberated with the echoes of a thousand battles, and his expression was as cold as the vacuum of space.

"If you hurt her, you won't live to regret it. I promise you."

The depth of his hatred was enough to shock Rose to her feet. "Doctor? What's he planning?"

Both men ignored her question. Not cowed by his adversary's theatrics, the hologram grinned unpleasantly. "I promise not to harm a hair on her head. In fact, when I'm finished with her, you can have her back. Surely that will be enough of a reward."

His hands knotting into fists, the Doctor clenched his jaw in anger and frustration. He could only hope that Donna would somehow keep Melissa safe. Coming to stand beside him, Rose tried to take his hand, but he stood rigidly straight, ignoring her as he desperately tried to think of some sort of plan to defeat Lumic before he achieved his goal.

Growing increasingly anxious after hearing Lumic talking about a 'her', Rose again spoke out. "Whatever you think you're going to do to me, I can tell you that it's not going to work. I'm not cooperating with any of your insane plans."

Her declaration sent the image into spasms of laughter. "Such a high opinion of yourself, Ms. Tyler. If my consciousness won't fit back into my body, why do you think it would be comfortable in yours, especially when Time Lords live so much longer?"

Struggling to rise, Jack had only heard half the conversation, but he was incensed nonetheless. "You can't have Melissa! I won't let you!"

Once again, Lumic ignored everyone but the Doctor. "Shall you tell them, or shall I?" When his adversary remained tense and silent, the hologram sighed. "You really do have a sense of the dramatic, don't you, Doctor? Very well, I shall explain."

"I don't want the female Time Lord's body, Captain Harkness. Even she would prove too strong for me to overcome. I want the body forming inside her. An infant's mind is empty of all but the most basic instincts, and it's wired for learning and adapting—the perfect environment for my consciousness."

"You're sick," Rose blurted out, too horrified to censor her thoughts.

"Careful, Ms. Tyler. I didn't make any promises to you."

Helping Jack stand, Fred called out caustically. "So, what do you expect to do, hold us hostage here for months while you wait for the happy event?"

The image stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans and regarded the metacrisis Doctor sympathetically. "You truly are nothing more than a weak shadow of the original, aren't you? Look at him; the Doctor has it all figured out, and it's about to drive him mad. Only, there's not a thing he can do to prevent it."

As all eyes swung to him, the Doctor swallowed down bile, but he stayed resolutely silent. He couldn't play Lumic's sick game anymore. The man was right; at that moment, he was teetering on the edge of sanity. If the image had been real, he might have ripped him apart, starting with the man's mind.

Irritated that his prey wasn't cooperating, the hologram took solace in the anguish he was about to create. "I'm a clone, you sad little copy. Don't you think my creator would have found a way to accelerate the growth process? With the devices I have available, fetal development will occur in a matter of hours, not months. And hours later, I will possess an adult Time Lord whose mind is that of an infant. It should be easy to subsume its consciousness."

Lurching towards the image, Jack ranted. "She's safe! She's gone into hiding and you won't find her!"

There was a moment of breathless silence as the two Doctors and Rose waited to see how Lumic would react. They didn't have to wait for long. The figure couldn't hide his pleased smile. The Captain had played right into his hand.

"Didn't I tell you? Dr. Harper attached a tracking device to her clothing before your 'escape' from Torchwood. They should be walking through those doors at any moment."


	8. Scared Half to Death

Author's Notes - I promise there's no cliffhanger this time! Thanks to **dwatlaskrhtcm**, **Mrs. 11th**, and **Kassandra J** for letting me know what they thought of the last chapter.

* * *

><p>Soon after the Doctor left to confront Lumic's clone, the doors to St. Cadoc's were battered open by Torchwood commandos. Thirty heavily armed operatives swept down the aisles, methodically searching for Melissa. Behind them walked Dr. Owen Harper, a small satnav in his hand.<p>

Crouching next to a crumbling stone sarcophagus, Melissa whispered in the darkness. "It's me they want, Donna. If I run upstairs, you could stay hidden until they're gone and go find help."

"There is no more help. We've got to stick together. You got any weapons in those pockets of yours?"

"Not even a piece of string. They're completely empty. What about you?"

"Not even a pocket. No wonder the Doctor likes his coat. Plenty of pockets in there."

"Wish my coat wasn't at the mansion." She heard the telltale scrape of boots on stone, and patted Donna's arm in apology. "Find Jackie. Tell her what's happened."

Resolutely, Melissa walked to the center of the crypt, putting up her hands. "Okay, you got me. Guess I'm going back to quarantine."

As a light from a powerful torch shone directly in her eyes, she instinctively turned her head. The voice that rang out was one that she had no trouble recognizing, however. "I told Captain Harkness to leave this planet and take you and the Doctor with him. He should have listened when he had the chance."

It was Owen's next words, however, that stole all of her hope. Calling into the darkness, he said, "You might as well surrender, too, Miss Noble. We know you're here somewhere. I don't want any loose ends when Pete Tyler and I hand Ms. Morgan over to Control."

Reluctantly, Donna did just that.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

When Melissa walked through the doors to Central Control escorted by six men dressed in green scrubs, the Doctor and Jack took one look at her and rushed to her aid. They each managed about three steps before being electrocuted into submission.

Their reaction was understandable. She was dressed in nothing but a short hospital gown, which revealed ugly purple and black bruises over every inch of her arms and legs. Her skin was so pale that the purple marks left by the mind probe resembled nothing more than an unholy crown of thorns. Worst of all, her eyes were dead, as if all the fight had been beaten out of her. Even Lumic seemed somewhat taken aback.

He glared at Owen, who had followed the technicians into the room. "Was it really necessary to beat her first, Dr. Harper? If she had miscarried, it might have taken months to impregnate her again."

"Piss off, Lumic. I know what I'm doing. I didn't let anyone to hit her on the torso. When Director Tyler killed Donna Noble in front of her, she went berserk. You're lucky she didn't jump out of his zeppelin."

"You're lying! Pete wouldn't have done something like that!"

Lumic impatiently turned his attention to Rose. "I grow weary of your protests, Ms. Tyler. Killing Donna Noble proved your father's loyalty. Now, unless you want to suffer the same fate, I suggest you keep quiet. "

Rose's Doctor desperately addressed the hologram. "You can't do this, Lumic! She's not human. You don't know what effect these machines will have on her. You could end up killing her and the embryos!"

The hologram's face split into a broad smile. "Embryos? How perfect! I can grow them both and put one in cryogenic storage. Never know when I'll need a spare. Thank you, Copy. You may yet prove your value."

While Jack and the Doctor were still on the floor recovering from their punishment, they watched in dismay as a surgical table and several bulky pieces of equipment were wheeled into the room. When Melissa spied the table, complete with leather restraints and stirrups, it appeared that something inside her finally snapped. She screamed incoherently, pelting to the door, only to be subdued by the six Torchwood medical technicians.

At least, they attempted to subdue her. She kicked and clawed and thrashed about so violently that all anyone could see was a mass of arms and legs as the technicians piled on top of her. She had torn three of them off of her before Owen finally waded into the fray. Roughly dragging Jack towards her, Dr. Harper pointed a pistol at the back of the Captain's head.

"Stand up and walk to the table, or I will shoot him! Do I make myself clear?"

She stopped struggling, although she refused to meet Jack's eyes. Head bowed, she slowly hobbled to the surgical table, where Dr. Harper made a show of strapping down her arms and legs. He was powering up the mitosis accelerator when Lumic's hologram inexplicably disappeared.

Instantly, Owen's entire demeanor changed. He started barking out orders as he frantically worked to unbuckle Melissa's restraints. "Get the hell out of here! Lumic's only trapped for six and a half minutes! After that, he's going to be royally pissed off!"

The med techs fled, solely interested in saving their own skin. No one else moved, however. Glaring at Dr. Harper as he struggled to stand, Jack demanded, "Just what are you playing at, Owen?"

"Christ, do you ever listen? I warned you to get off planet! I just risked my fucking life to give you the chance to run! You now have less than six minutes before that asshole manages to overcome the firewall Donna Noble's built around the main Torchwood mainframe, and if we're not out of here before then, we're going to be fried."

Hopping off the table, Melissa added her voice to Owen's. "Donna and Pete are on his zeppelin. If we can get through Traitor's Gate, we can make it to the river and they'll pick us up."

That spurred everyone to action. Ignoring his own pain, the Doctor pushed himself stiffly to his feet. Jack, however had to be assisted by Rose and Fred. The three of them followed Melissa towards the door, listening to her hasty explanation of the subterfuge that she and Owen had devised to divert Lumic's attention while Donna hacked into Torchwood yet again. As they walked through the hall and up the stairs half dragging Jack, she assured them that the bruises on her arms and legs were the result of some expertly applied theatrical makeup.

Owen didn't wait to make sure they followed his advice. Instead, he single-mindedly worked to remove the cover of the mitosis accelerator. Prying it open, he revealed three explosive devices hidden underneath the power core. Carefully, he attached one to the computers.

"That type of switch detonates by remote control, and if the bombs are as powerful as they need to be, you aren't going to have time to escape."

The Doctor's pronouncement made Owen jump. He had been so focused on his task that he'd thought everyone else had fled. Continuing to work, he irritably addressed the Doctor. "Shit, you startled me. Why do you think I told you to run? I've been trying to come up with a plan to take down Lumic for almost a year, but I didn't have a hell of a lot of time to come up with something today. Now, get out of here, or Torchwood will have two martyrs instead of one."

Ignoring Owen's suggestion, the Doctor attached the second bomb to the mainframe. Tossing his sonic screwdriver into the air, he grinned. "I've never been partial to martyrs myself. Always had the suspicion that they'd be alive if they'd just tried a little harder. Sonic screwdriver—I can boost the remote's signal so we just might make it."

Attaching the third detonation device in place, Owen handed the Doctor the remote. With a little tweaking, he was able to triple the range.

"Now, run!"

Owen headed for the exit, but the Doctor yanked him by the arm, pulling him deeper into the maze of ancient tunnels that riddled the underground facility. When the Torchwood medical director continued to pull against him, the Doctor impatiently explained. "I can feel the TARDIS; she's this way. We can't leave without my ship!"

"You're going to get us killed!"

"Thought you didn't care about that!

"I changed my mind!"

As the Doctor raced out of a dead end, Owen sprinting beside him, he realized they had run out of time, if not space. In two seconds, Lumic would be free of Donna's imprisonment, and the facility would return to his control. Shielding Owen with his body, he detonated the bombs.

There was a terrific roar, and the ground shook as bits of masonry rained down. He could feel the rush of air as the fire ate away at the available oxygen. His ears ringing too loudly to hear what Owen was shouting, the Doctor propelled him down the next corridor, brushing off dust and debris as he hurriedly searched for the TARDIS.

Thankfully, his ship sat at the end of the next tunnel. Already, the air was growing heavy with smoke, and the acrid smell of melted plastic filled their nostrils. It was a relief to exchange that deteriorating environment for the calm of the console room.

Looking around in disbelief, Owen couldn't keep his mouth closed. "Bloody fucking hell-this is awesome."

Dancing about the controls, the Doctor paused to raise an eyebrow. "That's the most original way to say it's bigger on the inside that I've heard yet. Congratulations, Dr. Harper."

Owen looked guiltily at the Doctor. "Sorry, it's a bit much to take in, even after the things I've seen at Torchwood."

"The TARDIS is one of a kind," he replied automatically, before frowning and correcting himself. "Actually, she's not, at least not anymore, but that's a long story, and I have a feeling that we'd better get to Pete's zeppelin before anyone decides to launch a rescue mission."

As he continued to set the controls, he warned Owen. "You might want to hang onto something. It's going to be a bit bumpy!"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The TARDIS materialized in the middle of the passenger lounge on the Vitex zeppelin. As the Doctor and Owen walked out of the ship (Owen looking slightly green), Rose ran excitedly to them, throwing her arms enthusiastically around the Doctor. "Was worried about you! Didn't want to see you with a new face."

Glancing at his counterpart glowering from a distance, he casually disentangled himself from her. "Well, I wouldn't call the mind probe a Sunday picnic, but no lasting harm was done."

Seeing her smile waver, he took her hand. "Thank you, Rose. I know you were concerned about all of us."

His eyes searched for Jack and Melissa. He relaxed marginally when he saw the pair sitting together on the sofa, Melissa wearing Jack's coat. They were talking animatedly to Pete and Donna as the other Doctor listened intently. It was all he could do not to run over there and drag them into the TARDIS. Just then, he had the overwhelming urge to take them and run.

"Started the explanations without us?" He forced himself to joke as he, Rose and Owen walked over to the group.

Donna gave him a smug grin. "Thought you were clever, Spaceman. You actually need me to explain it to you?"

"What? You mean how Pete here used the Vitex zeppelin so Lumic couldn't witness your supposed execution? And, then, how you hacked into Central Control, creating a firewall around the central server, trapping Lumic temporarily inside? Nah, I think I understand that well enough, though you were absolutely brilliant, Donna."

"No," he continued, growing serious, "What I want to know is who is responsible for scaring Jack and me half to death by using Emma as bait."

The tension in the room ratcheted upwards. Before Donna could respond, Melissa peered at the Doctor and then Jack, completely mortified. "I thought you would know it was a sham since you could sense that I wasn't in any kind of distress."

Now it was his turn to be embarrassed. "I—we failed to consider that fact. In our defense, Lumic took great delight in telling us exactly what he had planned for you. By the time you appeared, I'll admit I wasn't thinking very rationally."

Jack squeezed her hand. "Me either, Sweetheart. When I saw you being led in, I thought my heart would stop, or maybe that was later." Giving her a self-deprecating smile, he admitted, "It could be the shock. After that third jolt of electricity, everything got a little fuzzy for a while."

"Speaking of which, I should probably check you out in the infirmary. You, too, Emma. If nothing else, you should scrub off those fake bruises before Jackie takes one look at you and decides to strangle Pete." The real ones were bad enough, but he wisely didn't mention them.

That started a completely different discussion as Pete apologized and then attempted to explain his behavoir. The Doctor accepted the apology before insisting he take Jack and Melissa to the infirmary. He could hear Pete's excuses later.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Entering the TARDIS with his two bond mates, his tense muscles slowly began to unknot. Flicking the deadbolt, he grabbed them both, pulling them against him to reassure himself that they were real. Too close—that had been much too close for comfort. He berated himself for letting things cascade out of his control even as he was bolstered by the fact that they were all more or less in one piece.

Jack was more than a little surprised by his overt display. "You okay, Doc?"

Embarrassed,he pulled back. "I'm fine, Captain." The dismissive answer was out of his mouth before he could censor it. Ruefully, he shook his head. "I'm really going to have to stop saying that to you two, aren't I? I'm much better now that we're in the TARDIS and Lumic is dead. I might even be perfect once Emma takes a shower."

Handing Jack his coat, she made a face. "It's going to take a very long shower to get this stuff off."

The Captain couldn't help it; his smile of relief turned devilish. "Don't worry; I'm sure you'll have ample help."

"Is that a promise?"

"Yes," the Doctor answered for them both with a smirk. "But not until after a trip to the infirmary."

He tended to Jack first, cracking jokes as he confirmed that the Captain had suffered no lasting damage. "A few blisters on your chest. I think the worst damage was done to your Vortex Manipulator."

"You think? It's completely fried. When I popped into Central Control, Lumic didn't bother taunting me like he did with you. He just showed me how incredibly stupid I'd been. I thought he couldn't do more than watch and give orders. Those electric charges hurt, but losing my Vortex Manipulator hurts a lot worse."

"We'll fix it, first chance we get."

"You're kidding, right?"

"Why would I be kidding?"

Again, Jack was surprised by the Doctor's reaction, and he suddenly felt self-conscious. He knew their relationship had changed, but he still had trouble believing his good fortune. Disconcerted, he replied flippantly. "Well, you did disable it twice."

Now, it was the Doctor's turn to look uncomfortable. "I did, didn't I? That was . . . . "

Melissa provided the words when he couldn't. "Shortsighted? Overbearing? Stupid?"

He looked sheepishly at them both. "All of the above. And, definitely in the past. If you'll recall, Jack, I gave you the teleport base code myself when I needed you in Colorado."

He deliberately didn't remind Jack why he had needed him in Colorado, and the Captain pointedly didn't refer to it. There was a part of him that was still angry that the man he loved had planned on crawling into some hole to die alone, but he knew that it was not the time to vent those feelings. Knowing the Doctor as he did, he suspected that it would never be the right time to discuss that issue.

"Yeah, you did. And, it's been useful since. Hope it doesn't take too much to fix it."

"It shouldn't."

The Doctor meant to say that he was confident the necessary parts were somewhere in the TARDIS when he glanced at Melissa. Her sudden pallor coupled with the fact that she was staring unseeing in the distance alarmed him greatly. Rushing to her side, he was just in time to catch her as her knees buckled.

He and Jack helped her lie down on the infirmary bed. The Captain covered her with a blanket as the Doctor scanned her with his sonic screwdriver. For once she didn't protest about the fuss being made, although she apologized more than once for being a drama queen. "I'll be fine. It's just all catching up with me. I was so scared both of you would be killed. I'm really sorry."

Jack tenderly reassured her that there was no need to apologize as they both anxiously watched the Doctor throw open a few drawers, pulling out a number of small vials. Peering intently at the contents, he mixed six of them together in a coffee cup and brusquely handed them to her.

"Drink up. You're still anemic. This should help."

She regarded the ceramic mug with the utmost suspicion, but she drank it nonetheless. She was pleasantly surprised to find that there wasn't a trace of sedative in the concoction. "Do I have to take this again?" she asked petulantly as she wrinkled her nose at the horrible taste it left on her tongue.

"Not the best, huh?" Jack teased sympathetically as he watched her make a face.

"Not even second best, and I can taste a hint of celery in it. Can I take a shower? I'm extremely yishy."

"No way, Sleeping Beauty. Not after collapsing five minutes ago."

She looked at him with a bewildered frown on her face. "I feel perfect."

Kneeling beside her, the Doctor spoke soothingly. "Not now, Em. Later. Jack and I have to take care of some things, and we promised to shower with you, remember?"

"Can I help?"

"Nope, I'm afraid not."

Suspicious once again, she demanded, "Why?"

Jack interjected. "Because we want to make sure you're alright, Sweetheart."

She couldn't believe the arrogance of the two of them. "I feel fine. You're just being overprotective."

He knew he'd made a tactical error. Since nothing else had worked, he decided on basic groveling. "Maybe you're not tired, but the Doc and I are worried sick. Please, Sweetheart? For us? When we come back, I promise you can take a shower."

When he put it like that, she had to give in or risk looking unreasonable. "Fine," she huffed. "But you can't make me sleep."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

They left swiftly after that, not wanting to give her any opportunity to change her mind. As soon as they made it to the kitchen, Jack let out a long breath. "That was a lot harder than I thought it'd be."

The Doctor busied himself with fixing a large tray of sweet and savory nibbles. "She doesn't understand that she collapsed recently, Jack. If you ask her, she'll tell you she fainted, but if you ask her when, she won't understand. The past is the past. She can't comprehend the difference between the recent past and what happened a long time ago."

The Captain leaned wearily against the wall, devastated. "When you said a watch and a calendar weren't going to fix her this time, I thought you meant that she couldn't count. She had a little trouble with numbers in the beginning last time. Now you're telling me she has no frame of reference for her experiences, Doc. That's an extreme disability. How does she function?"

Taking the time to put the kettle on, the Time Lord briefly closed his eyes against the ugly reality. He should have discussed her injury with Jack at the outset, but he'd been so overwhelmed by her pregnancy that he'd glossed over the brain damage. He could understand the tension underneath the Captain's questions.

"Better than you would think, although she's extremely aware of her deficits. She's still a Time Lord, Jack. Even with the damage to her temporal lobe, she uses more of her brain than a human could ever hope to. She's relying on us to give her clues on how to behave. In the infirmary, she fainted. I gave her something to drink and told her it was for the anemia. She felt better, and therefore assumed that what I'd given her had worked. She can't comprehend that very little time had elapsed between the two events. She can't reason that it might take longer for the medication to take effect."

"You did give her something for her anemia, didn't you?"

"Of course I did," he snapped disdainfully, insulted that Jack had asked the question. "That's not the point. The point is, it will take several hours to help, and she can't comprehend that basic fact."

"Okay, I think I understand that one. She trusts us; she's going to use what we tell her to form a behavior. But what happens when she's alone?"

Pouring the boiling water into the teapot, the Time Lord looked pained. "She has fewer clues to tell her how to act. If she's sleepy, she'll sleep. If she's not, she won't. If she's hungry, she'll look for something to eat. If we tell her to stay put, she might do that, or she might leave five minutes later thinking she's been abandoned."

"Is that why she became despondent at the Tyler's? Because we weren't with her?"

"It was a contributing factor. The pregnancy is affecting the level of glucose in her brain. It was low enough to trigger a sudden bout of depression. That's also why she was so shaky and tired."

"Are you saying she's developing diabetes, Doc?"

"No, Time Lord's don't process sugars like humans. We don't have a pancreas. We don't produce insulin or glucagon. We don't need to. Sugars are absorbed directly through the stomach into the bloodstream. Our metabolism rates are so high that we need much more glucose and sucrose than would be healthy for a human. With the pregnancy, her metabolism is increasing, and she'll need even more sugar than normal."

He took a careful look at the food the Doctor had placed on the tray. "So why not just have her eat sugar?"

"Too sugary. It needs to come from a variety of sources. That's not to say she can't enjoy a nice jar of jam every once in a while, but she does need to eat other types of food as well. Sugar's not the only thing her body needs."

Sitting down at the cozy kitchen table, Jack considered the new information. "I should have stayed with her in the infirmary. It sounds like she shouldn't be left alone."

"The TARDIS is helping her right now. She's playing some old videos on the display at the moment to keep her entertained. And, this is a place where Emma feels very safe, whether we're physically present or not. I thought it best to let her have some time alone when it wouldn't do any harm. As her pregnancy progresses, it will become increasingly important for us to be with her. We'll be able to sense her mood and feelings almost as soon as she does."

Jack thought of several more questions, but at that moment his stomach growled. "Do I have to make myself a sandwich, or is that tray for all of us?"

"Even she can't eat this much at once, Captain. I thought we could make it a celebration. I, for one, am very happy to be alive after our encounter with John Lumic's clone."

"You're glad he's dead, you mean."

When he gazed at Jack, there was not a hint of a smile on his face, and his eyes were dark and serious. "That too."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Food refreshed Melissa's spirits, and the threesome spent the next few hours discussing everything but their recent captivity. When she finally thought to bring the subject up, both men immediately suggested a shower. After looking at her apparent injuries for much too long, they were eager to scrub off the fake bruises that marred her body. Her subterfuge in Lumic's stronghold had been all too believable, and their desire to erase the evidence was deep-seated.

Standing under the hot water, Melissa let Jack massage shampoo into her hair as the Doctor carefully oiled and soaped her body. The water running down her legs was a dirty brown as the makeup slowly dissolved to be washed down the drain. She wished her memories of Lumic's Torchwood could disappear so easily.

Pressed so closely together, she could feel their emotions as if they were shouting at her. Worry, relief, guilt—a surprisingly large amount of guilt, especially from the Doctor. She knew she was broadcasting just as strongly. Before long, they were holding on to each other under the hot water spray, the shower completely forgotten.

"To bed," the Doctor suggested when the TARDIS let the hot water turn cool and he finally noticed how wrinkled his fingers had become. "To sleep," he added quickly, although it really wasn't necessary. No one wanted anything else, not even Jack.

They ended up in his bedroom again, and he idly wondered if that set a precedent. Melissa slept in the middle once more, but Jack rested his arm over her so that his hand brushed against the Doctor's side. The Time Lord had to admit he found the contact comforting. He'd been so very worried about Jack, even if he couldn't yet bring himself to verbalize those fears. He'd taken the Captain's continued existence for granted when he'd been a fixed point, and his renewed mortality was something he wasn't quite prepared for.


	9. Family Matters

Author's Notes - There's a lot going on in this chapter as Melissa, Jack, the Doctor and Donna wrap up their time on Pete's World.

First off, the Doctor confronts . . . the Doctor! Just in case you're wondering, Fred is the private name that the Doctor, Melissa and Jack use to refer to the metacrisis, but they don't use it publically. I've used it in the story to more easily differentiate between the two because I really don't think the Doctor would give up his outward identity, including his name, just because he's now mostly human.

And, we see what's going to happen to Pete. Now, some of you might not think that it's punishment enough, but remember the person who's doling out the punishment. Pete will definitely suffer.

Lastly, I've attempted to write some fluff. Okay, I know I do humor all the time to lighten some of the scenes, which I guess can be fluffy, but I don't usually try to write fluff for fluff's sake. Let me know what you think.

And, thanks to **ceeare**, **Kassandra J, ****Mrs. 11th** and **dwatlaskrhtcm** for commenting on the last chapter. Hope everyone continues to read and enjoy the story.

* * *

><p>The Doctor woke slowly to the sound of pounding on the TARDIS door. Well, if he was being technical, he woke to the TARDIS projecting the sound of the door pounding in his mind, but he was too irritated at being woken to be technical. They'd only been in bed for two hours and twenty-two minutes. Who could be so impatient?<p>

Pulling on his trousers and hastily buttoning his shirt, he soon found out. "Come in," he said ungraciously as he undid the deadbolt and opened the door.

His mirror image was standing in front of him, clearly uncomfortable. "Didn't mean to interrupt anything," he began as he took in the Doctor's state of dress.

He wasn't having that conversation with his counterpart. It was none of his business. "I was asleep," he said testily. Leaning against the coral strut nearest the entrance, he didn't invite him in any further, leaving his doppelganger standing awkwardly near the open door.

"Donna was getting worried. She asked me to check up on you."

That was a blatant lie. Donna knew she'd be consulted if something were really wrong. "Tell Donna we're fine," he remarked, hoping it would be that easy to get rid of him.

It wasn't. "Jack knew you were being tortured."

The Doctor pushed off the wall to close the door to the TARDIS, although he didn't deadbolt it this time. "Cup of tea?"

Fred nodded, following his counterpart to the kitchen. They were silent until the tea was ready.

"So, are you going to tell me?"

"Tell you what?" the Doctor asked, knowing it would irritate his twin.

"You know perfectly well what. How the hell did Jack bond with you? Psychic bonds exclude the possibility of a third party."

"Jack's an impossible thing. You know that."

"He'll hurt her."

"And we haven't?" he asked, bitingly sarcastic. "You're right, of course. Jack's already hurt her once. He died on Gallifrey so we'd survive. For a while I thought she'd die too, but she's stronger than we ever suspected. And, he'll hurt her again, because barring some catastrophe, he'll die for the last time far sooner than either one of us would like."

"That's not what I meant."

"I know perfectly well what you meant. And I can't believe you have the gall to warn me about Jack. She's right; you're not me. I might have run from the Captain, but I've never doubted his loyalty. If you'll remember, the main reason I left him was to shield Rose from what she'd done."

"You can't use that excuse on me, Doctor. If you can't be honest with him, at least be honest with yourself. You left him because his very presence made your skin crawl."

"You know full well I got over that prejudice on Malcassaro, and it never affected me that badly to begin with."

Fred wasn't about to drop the subject, even though he knew it would be the prudent thing to do. "How did he manage to have a child with her?"

The Time Lord smiled sardonically. "I imagine he did it much the same way we did."

"Funny—you're avoiding the question.

"I already told you he's an impossible thing. I think that answers all questions about Jack Harkness well enough, don't you?"

"Their child was born with a heart defect?"

"She had a hole in her left heart. With the available technology, it would have taken several operations to fix it. Knowing they were in an alternate reality, they chose not to subject her to unnecessary pain."

"She was born a Time Lord?"

"Yes."

"But why would they choose to have a child in an alternate reality in the first place?"

"That's not my story to tell." He really wished his counterpart would get to the point. So far, he'd been dancing around a question he couldn't fathom.

There was a strained silence in the kitchen as both men drank their tea.

"Do you think a child of mine would be defective?"

So that was it. "I shouldn't think so. You're DNA is a double helix; it's why you couldn't sense the presence of Time Lords when we landed. You're still mildly telepathic, and the TARDIS called out to you, but you didn't know Emma or I would be inside, did you?"

"No, when I saw Donna and Jack, I assumed you were able to preserve her memories before you'd died and the two of them were traveling together." Hastily, he added, "I'd hoped you'd been saved, of course."

"Of course."

"Are they alright?"

"They'll be fine. Jack was lucky, and Emma's resting, which is the best I can hope for at this point."

"The dangers of twins—"

"I know."

"Why didn't you talk her out of it?"

"It was her choice to make, not mine. Although . . . ."

"Yes?"

"I think she made the right one."

Both Doctors sat back for a few seconds, contemplating that admission. Finally, the human Doctor gazed keenly at the original, as if the answer to a very important question could be found on his face.

"You've changed."

There was no point in arguing with himself. "I've stopped running."

"From what I can see, you haven't stopped running. You're merely running with her rather than away from her."

"You're wrong. If I was running, we'd stay here. This is merely a tactical diversion."

"And if I asked you to take Rose and me with you? Would you run from that?"

That question genuinely surprised the Doctor. "No. Is that what you want?"

"No. Seeing her, I only feel the guilt. I can't imagine reliving that pain day after day."

"She forgave me."

"Does that help with the guilt?"

The Doctor stared at his counterpart for several seconds before answering. "Sometimes." Draining the rest of his tea in one long gulp, he quickly stood to place his mug in the sink. "Feel free to see yourself out."

It was a blunt dismissal, but Fred accepted it well enough. He knew that the Doctor had been more open with him than he would have been with almost anyone else, but there were limits. He didn't attempt to follow him through the hallways. Instead, he walked out the ship to find Rose waiting for him.

"You alright?"

"I'm fine. Just had a question for the Doctor. You?"

She shrugged. "Been better. 'S a lot to take in all at once, you know?"

He knew that all too well. "We don't have to resign, if you don't want to, Rose. I know Lumic's death is going to create chaos at Torchwood. If you think we should help, then we can stay."

Standing just inches from him, she peered at his face. "Is that what you want, Doctor?"

He swallowed thickly before speaking, his mouth suddenly dry. "I want to be with you, Rose Tyler. If you need to be at Torchwood, then that's where we'll be."

That teasing little smile she reserved just for him stole across her face, and in that instant, he knew that no matter what she said, everything would be fine.

"And if I want a house with carpets?"

His mouth turned upwards into a delighted grin. "Then, we'll have to get a mortgage, won't we?"

Her smile was even brighter. "Yeah, we will. Just, not quite yet. I want you all to myself first. Think you can find us a nice deserted island somewhere?"

Stealing a look at the TARDIS, he took her hands in his. "I think that can be arranged."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Once his counterpart had left, the Doctor found it impossible to sleep. Arguing with himself was always as annoying as hell, and this time was no exception. In fact, it was worse because he couldn't blame his bad-temper on a different personality. That little bit of Donna inside the metacrisis Doctor might make him ruder, but it didn't make his accusations any less cutting.

Jack found him a few hours later underneath the grill in the console room, muttering darkly about the state of the engines. Grabbing a perfectly ordinary screwdriver, he dropped down to help.

"Are the engines good enough to get us home?" The lights in the console room dimmed briefly, and Jack affectionately patted the ship. "Sorry, girl. Didn't mean to insult you."

"She'll get us home." After a few turns of a spanner, the Doctor looked up. "We still need to stay here another four to five weeks, Captain."

Jack shrugged. "Yeah, I know. I have to admit that I was looking for something a little more relaxing." When the Doctor agreed, he continued thoughtfully. "You know, when we were at Torchwood, Melissa requested a deserted island and lots of sex. I gotta say that sounds better than hanging around here mopping up Pete Tyler's mess."

"Well, I do have a reputation to uphold. I don't usually stick around for the clean-up."

The seriousness of the Doctor's tone almost made the Captain laugh. He was such a fraud. He'd done nothing but stick around since Melissa's true nature had been revealed. Smirking, he replied. "Doc, I don't know if you've noticed, but you've been 'sticking around' for months now." Hastily, he added, "Don't worry; we don't have to tell the Tylers. Wouldn't want to ruin your reputation."

As if invoking the name had summoned her to appear, Jackie Tyler pounded on the door of the TARDIS. "Oi! I know you're in there, you lug! Open up! I need to talk to you!"

With amazing speed, both men scrambled from underneath the grating, the Doctor going so far as to run his fingers through his hair in an effort to fix it. "Better let her in, Captain. Genghis Khan's got nothing on Jackie Tyler."

As soon as Jack opened the door, she stormed in. Taking a good look at the both of them, she demanded, "You two alright? Rose says you've been in here for hours. She's getting worried. 'S not the only one."

"We're fine, Jackie." The Doctor quickly assured her, wondering how he could get her out of his ship before she figured out that they'd all been through the wringer. He pointed to the open grating. "Just doing a little maintenance. The TARDIS' engines weren't meant for this universe. They needed a little tweaking."

"If you ask me, that ship of yours needs more than a little tweaking, in any universe." Before the Doctor could do more than sputter, she briskly continued. "I wanted to apologize for what happened. None of you should have been taken away like that. It was barbaric! And, I wanted to thank you for getting rid of that Lumic fellow. Something about this Torchwood always seemed a little off, but I never took the time to worry about it. Stupid, really. It was hard to believe when Pete told me how long it went on."

"So, you've talked to Pete?"

Jack glanced curiously at the Doctor. His voice had gone up a couple of octaves when he asked the question, and the Captain wondered what the Time Lord was thinking.

Jackie's expression hardened. "Was too pissed off to do much talking. Brought Tony home and listened while my flipping idiot of a husband explained all the reasons why I shouldn't kick him out on his arse. He claims he was helping that Dr. Harper all along, but when it came right down to it, he turned you in rather than stick his neck out. Not sure what to make of that."

Knowing the Doctor's feelings on Pete Tyler's betrayal, Jack half expected an angry diatribe to spew from the Time Lord's mouth. He didn't expect the gentle reassurance he heard.

"He was trying to protect his family, Jackie—all of you. And, I think he'd truly convinced himself that this Lumic was different. Maybe he was at first. He did help Rose with the dimension cannon and solve global warming. But, in the end, Lumic's clone was just as selfish as he had been, and that's why he couldn't continue."

"So, you think I should forgive him, then?"

Turning his penetrating gaze on Rose's mother, he answered, "I don't think you should **not** forgive him. But, whether you **can** forgive him is up to you." Then, making his tone intentionally lighter, he asked, "So, what's it going to be, Jackie Tyler? I could take you back to your flat at the Powell Estates. You could raise Tony there, alone. Or, you can decide to forgive Pete and be a family here. Your choice."

"I didn't cross the Void just to give up the first time Pete acts like a shit, Doctor." Smug, she continued, "Doesn't mean he's going to know that for a while. I think he deserves to suffer."

Turning to Jack, she had a definite grin on her face. "What do you think, Captain Harkness?"

Chuckling, Jack answered immediately. "I think I'm very glad not to be Pete Tyler at the moment."

Dramatically rubbing his cheek, the Doctor agreed. "So am I, Captain. Jackie here has a rather ferocious slap."

"That'll be the least of it when I'm through with him," she vowed. Then, her look of glee was replaced by one of genuine concern. Approaching the Doctor, she intently searched his face. "You sure you're alright?"

"I'm fine, Jackie."

"Good, 'cause I consider you family, and I don't want to be worrying about you all the time."

Extremely embarrassed by her declaration, he did his best to deflect it. "Well, since you're most likely getting me as a son-in-law, that's refreshing to hear."

"Not him, you twit. You. I worry about you. Stranding Rose here with him was the nicest thing you've ever done for her, but I wasn't so sure it was the right thing for you. I know how hard it is to lose someone you love."

"He lost your daughter, Jackie, but he found someone just as precious." Jack didn't know what made him say that, except perhaps the tense expression on the Doctor's face.

"I know that, and I'm glad to see it. Where is Melissa, by the way? Pete said she wasn't hurt?"

The question hung in the air like an unexploded grenade. Finally, the Doctor responded in an almost normal tone. "She's fine. A few bumps and bruises, that's all. She's sleeping. Did Rose tell you she's pregnant?"

Jackie's face split into a pleased grin. "With twins, yeah? Hard to believe you're going to have kids before my Rose. I got a plan to speed that along, though, don't you worry."

Neither man wanted to go anywhere near that assertion. There were some things that were better unknown, and Jackie Tyler's schemes were definitely in that category. They both were subjected to a hug and kiss before she took her leave. As soon as she was gone, Jack leaned against one of the struts, shaking his head.

"Now, I know where Rose gets it. I pity Pete."

"Don't. I pity me. Sounds like he's going to be married sooner rather than later."

Jack grinned. "That would be worth sticking around for."

A fleeting smile in response flickered across the Doctor's face, to be replaced by a solemn expression. "You know you're wrong, Captain."

"Oh?" Bemused, Jack waited for the Doctor to enlighten him.

"Yeah. When I gave up Rose, I didn't find one person, I found two."

Jack forgot to breathe. For the first time in his long life, he had no idea how to react. Although it sounded woefully inadequate, he answered the only way he knew how. "Thanks, Doc."

Dropping underneath the grating to continue working on the TARDIS, the Doctor nodded. He still hadn't been able to tell Jack exactly how much he meant to him, but he had a feeling the Captain understood. He always did.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Four weeks later, the TARDIS materialized on a warm, sandy beach. Rose and Fred had already packed for the return journey, and were standing in front of the ship when the Doctor, Melissa and Jack walked outside.

"I can't believe how big you've gotten in only a month!"

Melissa reddened in embarrassment as Rose gave her a hug. She didn't think she was that big. Self-consciously, she put her hand on her stomach. Smiling at her friend, she quickly reassured her. "I feel perfect."

For once, it was the truth. Four weeks alone with the Doctor and Jack on their own tropical island had done much to boost her spirits. While she was still dependent upon a cocktail of drugs to keep her body functioning normally, she was no longer tired and nauseous, and hadn't yet progressed to the stage of pregnancy in which she felt overly heavy and awkward.

Rose's Doctor kissed her cheek. "You look wonderful, Emma."

She acknowledged him courteously. Four weeks had mellowed her initial anger towards him. However, she couldn't find it in herself to return his kiss, no matter how platonic. "And you two look tanned. Donna's going to be jealous."

Resting his arm protectively around her thickened waist, Jack grinned. "I just remembered. I owe that woman a kiss!"

"Better pay up soon, Captain." The Doctor's warning came with a goofy grin. "Considering how scarily smart she is now, you don't want to get on Donna's bad side."

As they all entered the TARDIS, Rose asked, "Has she sorted Torchwood yet? I got a text from mum telling me that Donna was busy organizing everything better than when Lumic was running things. And, the security cameras are gone."

"More importantly," Fred added, "Torchwood Cardiff is no longer a medical facility. From now on, they're going to be solely concerned with things that come through the Rift."

"Does that mean Owen's out of a job?"

Melissa asked a tad too eagerly, and the Doctor quickly intervened. "No pets, we agreed. And definitely no gingerbread men. We are not bringing Owen Harper back to our world. It would raise too many questions."

Jack concurred. "Owen stays." Seeing the look of disappointment on his wife's face, however, he tried to cheer her up. "That doesn't mean we can't find Toshiko Sato and lock the two of them in a broom closet before we leave."

She liked that idea immensely. As they all piloted the ship to the Tyler mansion, Melissa briefly explained the almost relationship between her Owen Harper and Toshiko Sato. Rose agreed that it was very tragic, and was keen to help her play matchmaker when they returned to London.

She was keen to do anything to get them to stay a little while longer. Her Doctor was wonderful, but it was nice to have a group close friends. She was certainly going to miss them. But, she wasn't willing to leave her mum, Tony or even Pete to go with them. The Doctor had given her a chance at a normal, wonderful life-with him no less-and Rose Tyler planned to take full advantage.

They were glad that Donna met them in the garden because they almost didn't recognize it. The formal gardens had been utterly transformed. A red carpet adorned the path between two sections of the lawn, and fifty chairs had been set out in rows on either side. The concrete statue of Venus had been removed, leaving a small open area that was primed to become the center of attention. About a hundred feet beyond, past the box hedges, stood a huge white tent decorated in accents of soft pink.

Before anyone could demand an explanation from a grinning Donna, Jackie ran into view, hugging Rose and her soon to be son-in-law in turn. "You're lucky you're not any later. The official'll be getting here in two hours. Should give you all plenty of time to change for the ceremony. I'll have to do your hair, Rose, but it looks like the sun did a good job lightening it."

As Jackie continued to witter on about the details of the impending wedding, she finally took a good look at Melissa and stopped in her tracks. "Look at you! You're not supposed to be showing yet! It's a good thing I told Marco to stay in case Rose's dress needed some last minute alterations. You'd better come with me."

Before Jackie could pull Melissa away, Rose stopped her. "Mum, have you gone mad? What are you doing? The Doctor hasn't even asked me to marry him yet!"

"Well, he better get on with it, hadn't he? Really, Rose, I thought you wanted your friends here for your wedding."

"Yeah, I do," she vowed quickly before letting the uncertainty creep into her voice. "It's just, he hasn't asked me yet."

Jackie turned to peer fondly at her not quite son-in-law. "Well, what are you waiting for, you daft sod? I gave you permission ages ago."

"Mum!" Rose's cheeks colored in equal parts anger and embarrassment. Everyone except Fred stifled their laughter to varying degrees of success. Unfortunately, that only made her more self-conscious.

Sneaking a glance at his counterpart, the Doctor cheerily addressed his former companion. "Now, Rose, you know I don't usually agree with your mum, but in this case, I'm forced to make the exception. A proposal of marriage is generally expected before a wedding. And while I'm highly suspicious of assumptions, I'd say it looks very much like there's going to be a wedding here in the next few hours."

Then, the Doctor turned his attention to his twin, ready to encourage him, but the man had already pulled out a small square box from his pocket.

"I'm not going to be able to convince any of you to give us a shred of privacy, am I?"

Jack answered for all of them. "Not a chance."

Rubbing his fingers through his hair, the human Doctor took a deep, cleansing breath. "Right."

He pulled Rose a little away from the group, his expression unusually embarrassed and uncertain. "I bought you a ring," he explained, opening the red velvet box to reveal a stunning ruby flanked by glittering diamonds. Nervous, he began babbling. "I know, I know-I should have asked you before now. Although I've got to say, I didn't realize we'd be walking in on a surprise wedding as soon as we returned from holiday. I mean, who does that? Well, the Oxtorians . . . and the Halfej . . . and the Igsnatii of course, but they generally don't ask the bride and groom if they'd like to get married beforehand, so there's really no engagement as such, and none of them have anything recognizable as fingers—"

"Oi, Spaceman! Time and place, yeah?"

His cheeks aflame, he looked up to see Donna shaking her head and Rose doing her best to hide a grin. "Yes, right, of course." Taking another deep breath, he calmed his mind; only one person mattered at the moment.

"Rose Tyler—"

"Yes, Doctor?" She spoke coyly, enjoying herself very much. Much of her life was downright bizarre, why should her proposal or wedding be any different?

"I love you."

Her heart fluttered in her chest. It wasn't a joke any more. He'd whispered it on the beach in Norway, said it again when he'd filled out that stupid, stupid paperwork, consoled her with it every time she'd woken up crying, her nightmares too much to bear. But this, this was much different.

This wasn't some private declaration between the two of them. He was saying it openly, in front of the people that really mattered. He might as well be standing in front of some altar (although she knew he didn't believe in a deity) promising until death do us part, because his declaration had all the solemnity of a sacred vow. In many ways, it made the upcoming ceremony redundant.

"I love you, too," she replied quietly, unconsciously biting her lower lip.

He smile was one of relieved joy. "So, Rose Tyler, would you like to marry me today, in front of our family, friends, acquaintances and whomever else your mum has decided to invite? Do you want the house, the mortgage, the sensible car, and only occasional bouts of running? Would you, in fact, like to take the slow path with me?"

That had to be the best proposal she'd ever heard. "I do." She knew she must be grinning like a loon, but she didn't care one whit. And when he placed the engagement ring on her finger, her smile only increased.

They hugged first, because that's what they'd always done, and then they kissed until Jack started whistling cat calls and Jackie loudly insisted that Rose needed to try on her dress. Breaking apart, they held hands as they followed Jackie into the mansion. The rest of the wedding party followed, happily shouting congratulations and teasing the Doctor about his tendency to babble.

Four hours later, they were husband and wife. Jackie had given her daughter away. Although she and Pete had reconciled, it seemed more fitting that way. Tony had been the ring bearer, and had only dropped the pillow once. Both Doctors wore tuxes, and not a single alien had attempted to invade.

Donna and Melissa both looked washed out in the soft pink dresses Jackie had chosen, but they didn't mind at all. It was Rose's day to shine, and she did in an exquisite white silk wedding dress that trailed the floor. Melissa did mind how uncomfortable her fitted dress made her stomach feel, but they'd let out every inch of seam just to get the thing to zip. She was definitely looking forward to taking it off.

That wouldn't be anytime soon, however. The bride and groom had yet to cut the wedding cake, a lovely, three-tiered Italian crème cake covered in cream cheese frosting and bedecked with edible ball bearings. After dessert, they could all look forward to several hours of speeches, toasts and dancing.

Donna particularly enjoyed the dancing that evening. There were plenty of eligible men, even if she couldn't take one home with her. And, most were more than eager to dance with her, especially after she and Jack performed a very steamy tango together. He'd even unexpectedly kissed her at the end. Afterwards she whacked him playfully on the arm, warning him about making his bond mates jealous, but she had been delighted nonetheless.

Owen Harper attended the wedding. He spent most of his time talking to Pete about Torchwood business until Jackie dragged her husband to the dance floor. Soon afterwards, Melissa introduced the Director of Torchwood III to Toshiko Sato, who was a bemused, last minute addition to the wedding guests. She had just finished her doctorates in computer science and applied physics, and was currently being recruited by Torchwood to begin working on the proposed Rift Manipulator at the Cardiff branch.

At first, Dr. Harper danced with Ms. Sato to please the extraordinary woman who had been brave enough to walk into Lumic's version of the lion's den. By the time he asked Toshiko if she'd like something to drink, however, he had completely forgotten that he'd been forced to make her acquaintance in the first place. Tosh, as she preferred to be called, was quite shy at the outset, but became more and more animated as the night wore on. Before the evening was over, he had put her number in his mobile, promising to call her the next day.

By eleven that night, Melissa was flagging. Quietly, they made their goodbyes to Pete and Jackie. Tony was already asleep, but they'd explained to the boy that they'd be leaving before he went to bed. It was more difficult to say goodbye to the Doctor and Rose, but Donna insisted that they do it properly. While the band took a break, they made their farewells.

As they walked down the now dark garden path, Rose suddenly came pelting towards them, clutching the extra fabric of her gown in one hand and a large yellow gift sack in the other while shouting at them to stop. Curious, the four of them waited for her to catch up.

"Me and the Doctor, we got something for the babies. Didn't want you to leave before we could give them to you." Handing the present to Jack, she threw her arms around Melissa. "The Doctor told me the walls aren't closed anymore, so if you want, we'd love for you to visit after the twins are born."

Happy tears streaming down her face, Melissa promised to do just that. "Thank you, Rose, for everything."

"'M gonna miss you, all of you. Take care of each other, yeah?"

Before they could start another round of hugs and tearful goodbyes, she had turned to run down the path. When Jack commented on how fast she was running, Donna explained that she'd worn white trainers underneath her wedding gown, just in case.

While Jack and the Doctor were still chuckling over that, they reached the TARDIS. Once inside, Donna insisted that Melissa open the gift. Taking it from Jack, she pulled out two baby blankets. Her eyes got teary once again. The flannel was tie-dyed with every shade under the rainbow, and the swirling pattern reminded her of the Time Vortex. They were beautiful, and as the first gift given to the twins, they would be doubly treasured.

"Those are gorgeous," Donna enthused. I wonder if Rose made them herself?"

"Most likely," the Doctor responded. "They certainly look . . . unique."

His tone of voice piqued Donna. "If by unique you mean ugly, Spaceman, then you couldn't be more wrong. They really are lovely."

"Donna, I did not mean to imply they were ugly. Unique does not mean ugly, at least I don't think it means ugly in this time period. Thirty-third century, now there's an era where ugly means all sorts of things. Have to be very careful in using that word then."

Jack decided to voice his own opinion. "Well, they're definitely colorful."

Donna rolled her eyes. "Men! You wouldn't know beautiful if it came and knocked you over the head with a stick!"

Jack firmly disagreed. "Definitely wrong there, Donna. I've been staring at a vision of beauty all night, wondering how difficult it's going to be to unzip the dress she's currently poured into."

Realizing that he was speaking about her, Melissa hastily wiped the tears from her face. "I don't know if it will unzip, you might have to rip it."

Donna shook her head in exasperation. "I do not need that image in my head, thank you very much. I suggest we take the TARDIS back to our proper universe and spend some time in the Vortex. I, for one, could do with some sleep before dinner in Barcelona. What you three get up to, I really don't want to know."

The four of them were able to pilot the TARDIS with very little turbulence. They all agreed that taking a break was an excellent idea before meeting Martha and Mickey at the restaurant at the resort on Barcelona. When the ship was safely drifting in the Vortex, Donna made a point to inform them that she would be going to bed, disappearing into the hallway seconds after her pronouncement.

As soon as Donna disappeared, Melissa turned to Jack. "If you've got a pocketknife, I wouldn't mind you cutting me out of this dress, right here, right now. I'm starting to feel like I'm being squeezed by a giant boa constrictor."

The Doctor looked up from his calculations. "Won't that ruin it?"

"It's pink, Doc," she replied with a sigh. "Not exactly a good color for a pale ginger, but for Rose I didn't mind wearing it. I can't believe Jackie and Donna managed to put together a wedding behind her back."

"Told you Donna was brilliant."

"And she dances a mean tango."

"Don't even think it, Captain. Donna's made it perfectly clear that she shares enough of my memories as it is."

As he jokingly chided Jack, the Doctor stood behind Melissa and tugged her zipper downwards. When he finished, the strapless dress slipped to the floor. "Jack's right. You are a vision of beauty."

Sighing in contentment as her restrictive clothing fell to the floor, she looked up wryly at the Doctor. "You two are blind, you know. Five people told me how big I'd gotten."

She experienced their rebuttal rather than heard it; it surged through the bond, leaving her breathless. "Oh," she panted in genuine surprise. "I guess you aren't—blind, I mean."

Encouraged by her response, they led her to the bedroom, careful not to run into Donna along the way. Their attention was wonderful, but she was determined that the night would not be all about her. Eventually, they agreed, and for the first time, it was about them, all three of them, sharing equally in their pleasure.

Abruptly, the trio slipped out of their physical constraints to enter each others' minds, a landscape free from gravity and the laws of reality. It was dizzying, titillating and lasted forever and no time at all. As they reveled in the ecstasy of their union, Melissa was only dimly aware of her physical body.

When she finally crashed back to reality, she inexplicably burst into tears.

"Sweetheart?"

"I'm o-okay," she wailed, stuttering as her voice hiccupped with her cries. "S-stupid hormones. Everything's w-wonderful. D-don't m-mean to make a fuss."

"How could you make a fuss, Em? It's been a long day, and we're all knackered. How are you feeling?"

She was trembling, and he wasn't that surprised by her answer. "I'm a l-little over-overwhelmed-too many emotions zipping through my head."

Jack and the Doctor tightened their mental barriers in response, although it was more difficult than they had anticipated after such an intense union. Rolling onto her side, she faced Jack, who wiped away her tears as the Doctor stroked her back. Gradually, she calmed to the point of sleep.

When her breathing had finally evened, the Doctor pressed a kiss against her shoulder before returning to the console room to fetch his sonic screwdriver. A quick check reassured him that she was suffering from nothing more than fatigue.

"She's just tired."

"I think overwhelmed is the better answer. I know I'm still trying to take in everything that happened tonight."

"Don't say you're too surprised, Captain. You did buy me that drink some time ago."

Jack chuckled. "Yeah, I did. And I thought you'd never go for it. Guess there's just something about weddings."

"Well," the Doctor drawled. "I have to admit that it was reassuring to know Fred married Rose. Now, I don't have to worry about him crossing the Void to pursue you two."

"Seriously? You were worried we'd be attracted to him? You've got to be kidding me, Doc. He had all your flaws and very little of your redeeming qualities. Not to mention the fact that he was much ruder."

Complacently, the Doctor turned to face him. "So, I have redeeming qualities, eh? I'm going to remember that, Captain. Might even ask for a list."

"No way, I am not pointing them out to you. You'd be impossible to live with."

"Most likely," the Time Lord acknowledged with a grin.

Melissa began to snore, and the two men changed topics, Jack asking the one question that scared him the most.

"Do you think we'll be able to pull this off?"

"I think it's our best bet. Emma knows not to mention our trip to Pete's World, even if she doesn't truly understand why. Her pregnancy is noticeable now, but she's not so big that Martha or anyone else will be unduly surprised. They'll assume they weren't very perceptive at lunch."

Then, wanting to be more open, the Doctor admitted, "I'm still concerned about possible complications. She's stable for the moment, but that could change in an instant. I'll feel much better once we're back in Cardiff and she's under Drocina's care."

"You trust her?"

"More than most. She's young enough not to be tainted by politics."

"That's a relief. Now, all we've got to do is figure out how to keep her safe for the next five months."

"Yeah."


	10. Dogs with no Noses

Author's Notes - First, thanks to **dwatlaskrhtcm** for commenting on the last chapter. From the lack of any other response, I'm guessing that writing fluff, or at least weddings, is not my strong suit. The action now movest to Barcelona. Hope you enjoy.

* * *

><p>"God, Jack, how'd you get so tanned in six hours?"<p>

Martha hugged the Captain as they met at the casual restaurant by the pool. In honor of their location, both he and the Doctor were wearing shorts and short-sleeved shirts, revealing much more of their skin than usual.

Returning her hug, Jack thought that it was a good thing that Melissa and the Doctor hadn't done much sunbathing on Pete's World. "I grew up in a desert, Martha. I'd be tanned all the time if it would actually stay sunny in Cardiff for more than a few hours."

"With the clothes you wear? No way, Captain Nemo. Surprised you didn't wear the coat to dinner."

"Hey! Don't knock the coat, Mickey. It's a classic. Besides, it's always chilly in the Hub."

"Jack's not used to the cold," the Doctor explained. "Even after a few centuries, he can't acclimatize. Warm enough here, though."

They spent a moment choosing seats and perusing the menu. The food was mostly plant based and steamed, although there was enough spice to keep it from being too bland. They ordered a variety of dishes to share.

"You must have classic morning sickness, Melissa. You look a lot better tonight than you did at lunch. You're practically glowing."

"I feel good."

"How far along are you now?"

Melissa stared blankly at the Torchwood medic. "What do you mean, Martha?"

"Um, you know, how many weeks have you been pregnant?"

"I'm pregnant," she answered with a quizzical expression on her face as she struggled to understand the question. The embryos were growing; she could feel her stomach muscles stretch as the size of her uterus increased. So, she was definitely pregnant now. She knew that she had been pregnant four times before, and she remembered she hadn't always been pregnant. But, how long? It didn't make any sense. She just was.

The Doctor came to the rescue before she could become too upset. "Emma's five weeks along, Martha."

"But she can't be," the physician replied in disbelief. "She's already showing."

Melissa gripped her bond mates' hands as Martha expressed her concern. She didn't understand the fuss being made, and it was making her nervous.

Donna swiftly intervened. "The gestational period for Time Lords is twenty-six weeks, Martha. And, Melissa's carrying twins. It's perfectly normal for her to be showing now."

She relaxed. Normal, Donna had said normal. Everything was fine.

Martha's curiosity was definitely piqued, however. "Twenty-six weeks? Seriously? That doesn't seem fair. Shouldn't it be more than a human's, not less?" Drocina had not given her any instruction on Time Lord gestation. She'd probably never thought it would be necessary.

"She's not an elephant," the Doctor replied wryly. "Our bodies operate much more efficiently than a human's. It's little wonder that a fetus would develop more quickly as well."

Jack deftly changed the subject by jokingly asking Martha if she was contemplating having children anytime soon. It was rude, embarrassing, and made Mickey uncomfortable. But, it effectively stopped the medic from asking any more questions.

Donna saved dinner by requesting that the Doctor tell them the history of Barcelona. He grew animated, gesticulating wildly as he described the colonization of the planet by the New Spanish Empire in forty-twelve. They all listened raptly until their meal arrived, and then they were busy eating. By the time they had finished dessert and the planet's version of coffee, it was quite late.

"I'm going to bed, thank you very much. I read in the brochure that the resort offers a spa package, and I've scheduled mine for the early morning. Going to get a mud treatment before hitting the pool. Think I'm entitled to a little rest and relaxation."

Knowing how hard Donna had worked in the last month to restore the original Torchwood server after Lumic's demise, the Doctor wholeheartedly agreed. "That sounds wonderful, Donna. Be sure to spend some time in the sauna. They use banana scented steam."

"You're having me on."

"Nope. It's true; you can request scented steam. Although, I'll admit that lilac and sandalwood are more popular choices."

"Me and Martha got something planned in the morning, too, Boss. We're going on a tour of the crystal caves. Transport's picking us up an hour before dawn. You three could come if you like."

The Doctor's face became a mask. "Good. That's good. A tour. Yes, of course, a tour. Think we'll skip it, if you don't mind. I've seen the crystal caves. They're crystal. And caves. Very impressive, actually."

As Martha and Mickey gaped at the Doctor, Jack quickly spoke up. "Why don't I make a reservation at a restaurant I know where there's more meat on the menu? Plus, they have a dancing dog show that's known throughout the star system."

Jack's suggestion was met with enthusiasm. Promising to call the restaurant in the morning, he left with Melissa and the Doctor. As soon as they entered the privacy of their suite, Melissa started to cry.

The Doctor and Jack sat beside her on the sofa, giving what comfort they could. No matter how normal her mood swings were and how many times they'd heard her cry, it still bothered them when she simply burst into tears.

"Why can't I sense them? I know I'm pregnant. I know there are two, but I can't feel their presence in my mind. Is something wrong with them? Will I lose them, too?"

The two men exchanged troubled glances. This was going to be difficult to explain.

"Sweetheart, you've only been pregnant thirty-eight days."

When she looked blankly at Jack, the Doctor added, "The embryos are too small for you to sense anything more than their existence right now."

As the Doctor held her hand and Jack brushed the tears from her cheeks, she did her best to understand. "They need to grow."

"Yes!" the Doctor answered in relief.

"But they're growing now. I can feel my body changing. They're getting bigger. Why can't I sense them?"

"They're still too young," he answered, hoping she would grasp it.

"But you just said they were growing." She became increasingly frustrated and irate as she saw the compassion in his eyes.

Turning to Jack, she pleaded with him. "I could feel Joy. She was mischievous; she liked to flip and kick. I miss her. I miss them all. I can't lose any more children. I can't, Jack. They can't be like her. Why can't I sense them?"

He didn't know what to say. Grasping at straws, he asked, "You do know you're temporal lobe is impaired, don't you?"

She instantly turned waspish. "Thanks for the reminder, Jack."

He ignored her tone. "And what does a temporal lobe regulate?"

There was a bite in her voice as she replied, but he actually preferred that to the crying. "Temporal, coming from the Latin temporalis, relating to time."

Tenderly pushing her hair behind her ears, he asked, "Can you explain the word time?"

"Time's—"

She stopped, sorrow lining her face. "I'm a lord of time. It's in my name; it's what I am. But, I don't know what that is anymore. I'm just a ghost. I did, before Rassilon's tomb. But, now I'm not a lord of anything. I'm a burden, to you and the Doctor. I'm defective. The babies will die, just like my other children, and it will be all my fault. I can't sense them, Jack. I know that means something's wrong."

She gazed at him soulfully, and the pain in her eyes was such that he pulled her against him, running his hands soothingly down her back. She was crying again, and this time it was his fault. He'd been trying to help and all he'd done is made her feel worse.

The Doctor gently cupped his cheek, kissing him in absolution before pulling Melissa towards him. Unwillingly, she faced him, her shoulders hunched.

"Listen to me, Emma. Nothing is wrong with the babies. I'm sorry; I'm so sorry that trying to explain it to you made you upset, but you have to trust us. You will sense them."

"I will?"

"Of course you will. Let me ask you a question. At what stage of gestation can a Time Lord mother sense her child's consciousness?"

She answered by rote, not really understanding what she said. "At forty-five days after conception."

Taking a deep breath, the Doctor assured her. "That's not now. It's after now."

"Oh." Tears still falling down her face, she said angrily, "I'm so stupid. Will you tell me?"

"You'll know, Sweetheart. Everything's going to be fine." Jack's assertion went a long way towards calming her, even though she thought it was more wishful thinking than fact.

"We'll tell you, though. We promise," the Doctor reassuringly added. "Just like I told you when it was time for the memorial service on Gallifrey. All you have to do is trust us."

She gave them both a watery smile. "That's the one thing I don't have a problem doing."

"See? There's nothing to worry about, then. Why don't you get ready for bed?"

"I'm not sleepy."

Neither were they, if the truth be told. "Got any ideas about what you want to do?"

Jack knew what he wanted to do. He wanted to torture Rassilon, slowly, for forcing the woman he loved to do something that had left her brain damaged. But, the Time Lord was dust, and he would forever be denied his retribution.

"I want to go home."

"Why?"

"I like it there. I miss the Hub. I like to feel useful."

"We can't leave yet, Em. We have to stay a few days so Martha and Mickey can be our alibi. We'll relax by the pool. You can feel useful when we get back."

"I don't want to relax. I want to go home."

"But Martha and Mickey do. And Donna needs a break. She was working while we were lounging on a beach," Jack pointed out reasonably. "We'll go home as soon as we can."

"I don't mean to be selfish. I just miss everything."

What she missed was what she couldn't have, however. She missed her children; she missed Owen and Tosh. She missed the Ianto she had known before. At least Cardiff was familiar. She could walk the same streets they had walked, keeping their memory alive.

"Everything?" Jack asked in an exaggerated tone, trying to cheer her up. "Are you sure? Because I personally think I could do without Splott. And the Rift. Cardiff would definitely be nicer without the Rift. And the rain. I've been on jungle planets where it rained less."

"Okay, okay, you've made your point. I don't miss everything. Besides, you two are here, so I should be content."

Now he had her. "You **should** be content? Sweetheart, that definitely sounds like a challenge." Glancing at the Doctor, he asked for confirmation. "What d'you think, Doc?"

"Oh, I think that was definitely a challenge. What do you think, Em?"

She grinned mischievously, her melancholy temporarily at bay. "Well, I did say I wasn't sleepy."

They'd found something to do after all.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Yanking open the door to their private sauna the next morning, Melissa raced to the toilet. "You just had to use the banana scent, didn't you, Doc?"

"Oi! What's wrong with bananas? Bananas are good. Bananas are . . . ." Seeing her hunched over the commode, her complexion far too pale, he carefully pulled her hair away from her face. "Maybe I should have picked another scent. Bananas might have been . . . too banana-y."

"No scents," she groaned, wiping her mouth. "And no more steam for me. I'm going to take a shower—alone. Then, I want to do some shopping. I'm tired of sunshine and water."

Walking into the suite's spacious bathroom, Jack did his best not to grin. He knew better than to tease her when she was so irritable. So, he did the next best thing.

"Hey, Doc. You might want to scrub that smell off of you too, unless you want your head enveloped in a buzzing swarm. I hear Barcelona City's been overrun with flies."

"That might be an improvement," Melissa added darkly as she slammed shut the shower door.

After a minute, Jack and the Doctor heard the sound of running water, and both men visibly relaxed. "I've got a thought, Doc. Anything she wants to buy today, we buy."

"As long as it's not a weapon," he agreed with a theatrical shudder. "Right now, she just might shoot us both."

"Yeah, well, that's not a prob—"

The Time Lord went still, silently assessing the Captain, who'd stopped in the middle of his sentence with a look of chagrin on his face.

"Forget again, Jack?"

He shrugged. "Force of habit." When the Doctor continued his disapproving stare, he continued frostily. "I'm well aware of my limitations, Doc. Our encounter with Lumic drove that fact home."

It was definitely time to change the subject. "What do you say, Captain? Merchants' Market or Antique Square?"

"I doubt she wants to look at antiques, no matter how much you'd like to."

"Fine," the Time Lord grumbled. Abruptly sniffing the air, he wrinkled his nose. "Blimey, I hate to admit it, but Em's right. That banana scent is just too banana-y. I'd better scrub it off."

"Want some help?"

Glancing at the towel wrapped around Jack's waist, the Doctor considered it. Then, he heard the shower being turned off. "As much as I'm tempted, I think you'd better tend to our wife. Someone has to soothe the savage beast."

There were so many comments Jack could have made to that statement that he didn't even bother. Waving the Doctor away, he grabbed Melissa's robe to wait attentively outside the shower.

"Doc? Do you think you could hand me-? Oh, thanks, Jack. Where's the Doctor?"

"Scrubbing off banana scent in the sauna. Even he decided it was too banana-y."

"Don't remind me," she warned as she searched her suitcase for something to wear. Pulling out a roomy, bright yellow sundress, she grimaced. "What's the old girl thinking?

Glancing at the dress, Jack did his best to cheer her up. "It's very sunny looking. Besides, you can buy some new clothes at the market."

Grumbling the entire time, she changed into the dress. It was indeed sunny looking, but it made her fair skin look ghostlike. "I'm freezing in this."

Without a word, Jack rummaged through her suitcase, finding a cropped green jacket for her to wear. Melissa studied herself critically in the mirror. "I look like an upside down buttercup."

Grinning, he placed a floppy yellow hat bedecked with a wide green ribbon on her head. "I think the TARDIS intended for this to be a matched set. It even comes with a pair of green and yellow sandals."

"You've got to be kidding me."

Holding up the shoes, Jack quickly pressed his mouth against hers, swallowing the yelp of indignation she had intended to make about the footwear. After a few minutes of his attentions, she decided her outfit must not look so bad.

"Oi! Captain, are you trying to get her into her clothes or out of them?"

Breaking apart, Melissa held onto Jack as she grinned at the Doctor. "You're not going to get out of shopping that easily. I'm going to order some room service, and you and Jack can get dressed, without assistance from the other, understood?"

Jack saluted. "Yes, ma'am."

Grinning, she walked out of the bathroom, shoes in hand, only to reappear a minute later. Her clenched fists and reddened cheeks were a clear indication that her mood had flipped yet again. Glaring at the wall, she demanded, "Which do I order, breakfast, lunch or dinner?"

The Doctor winced, convinced it was going to be a long day. "Breakfast."

"No bananas." She practically growled the word.

"No bananas," he agreed patiently. "Order whatever you like."

"I'd like dinner," she griped as she stalked out of the room. Her bond mates were too smart to reply.

Twenty minutes later, they were sitting down at a small table, eating breakfast and watching the pool from their balcony. It was early enough that not many people were out. There were a few Hath swimming laps, and a pair of blubbery Moyaks soaking up the first rays of the morning sun.

"Can I have some of your butter to put on the poko root, Jack?"

"It's not butter," the Doctor corrected as Jack handed Melissa his cup of butter. "It's the solidified oil of the regeh plant.

"It looks like butter and tastes like butter. Might as well call it butter, Doc."

Jack had interjected quickly, hoping to forestall another angry rant from Melissa. Her mood had not improved with the arrival of breakfast, and the Captain was beginning to wonder if they shouldn't have eaten on the TARDIS. At least he could have made her pancakes. Pancakes never failed to cheer her up.

The Doctor opened his mouth to refute Jack's assertion, but seeing the look on his wife's face, he snapped his mouth closed. The threesome ate in silence for the rest of the meal.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Strapping on her sandals, Melissa rummaged in her suitcase until she found a large green and yellow straw purse. Beaming, she showed it proudly to Jack. "Look, the TARDIS even color coded my accessories."

"It's a good thing she didn't try that with us."

Both Jack and the Doctor were wearing khaki shorts, although Jack wore a navy t-shirt emblazoned with the 2010 World Cup logo, and the Doctor sported a solid red polo shirt. The TARDIS had packed trainers for them, not sandals, and each had been provided with Panama hats, which they adamantly refused to wear. All in all, they looked like typical human tourists on any number of planets.

The market was packed with people by midmorning. It was the largest on the planet, boasting of four square miles of vendor carts and permanent shops. Melissa seemed determined to visit each one, carrying a well-stocked credit stick in her purse. If the TARDIS hadn't been bigger on the outside, the Doctor might have wondered how they were going to fit all of her purchases in the time ship.

By the fortieth store, the Doctor had had enough. "We don't need a comfy chair for the console room. We have the jump seat!"

"Fine," Melissa huffed. "It was the wrong color anyway." Explaining to the merchant that she'd changed her mind, the pregnant Time Lord neglected to retrieve her purse from the counter. Walking out with the Doctor by her side, they met up with Jack the next booth over and decided to try a different street.

Passing by the next twenty or so booths without stopping, Melissa barely noticed what items were for sale. She was feeling increasingly nauseous, and there was a faint odor of something unpleasant yet oddly compelling. "Does it smell weird to you?"

"Define weird."

Glancing at Jack, she wanted to slap the smirk off his face. "If I knew, I wouldn't be asking. I keep getting a faint whiff of something really rotten, like spoiled meat, but it's overlaid with a hint of musk and citrus." Just then, she had to cover her mouth to keep from gagging.

Instantly, both men were extremely solicitous. "Would you like to go back to the hotel, Em? We can come back when you're feeling better."

Swatting away some of the more annoying flies, she shook her head. "No, it's gone now. Like I said, it was just a faint whiff. You sure you don't smell anything, Doc?"

Inhaling, he took a deep breath. "Nothing out of the ordinary. The smells are a little more distinct on Barcelona, but I've always thought that's because the dogs don't have noses. You're positive you don't want to return to the hotel?"

"I'm fine. Stop babying me." With that, she forged ahead of them, making them jog to catch up.

Twenty minutes later, she finally realized her purse was missing as she attempted to pay for a pair of stretchy black trousers. "I must have left it at the last shop. I'll be back," she promised the merchant as she retraced her steps.

The Doctor and Jack had wandered to a nearby vendor's stall, both intrigued by the display of tourist kitsch. "Think Gwen and Ianto would appreciate a flashing "Dogs with No Noses" aromatherapy light?"

"I think you'll need to buy them something much nicer if you expect to bribe your way to their forgiveness, Captain."

Putting down the light, Jack frowned. "Yeah, well, I should have taken them and Rhys with us. If anyone deserves a vacation, it's Gwen and Ianto."

"How long have they been on your team?"

The Doctor's question spurred a lengthy discussion about all of the Torchwood agents who had worked with Jack over the years. In the middle of a sentence, Jack realized that Melissa was taking a very long time in the shop. Curious, he gestured to the Doctor to follow.

After a thorough investigation, the shop proved to be empty except for the merchant. "Excuse me; have you seen a woman in a yellow dress?"

"She wanted to buy this pair of trousers, but she said she'd lost her purse. Went looking for it."

"How long ago?"

"Oh, fifteen minutes or so. Why?"

Taking out his mobile, the Doctor tried to call her. It rang for a while and then went into voicemail. "She could be anywhere by now. How the hell could we be so stupid, Jack?"

"Hey, we weren't stupid. Relax, Doctor. Barcelona's safe. Besides, she's retracing her steps; that means we can too." Confidently, Jack began to retrace the route they'd taken, the Doctor pausing at each stall and shop to inquire after Melissa.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Staring at a four way junction, Melissa tried to remember which one she'd originally taken. The increasingly large swarms of humming fruit flies were proving to be a distracting nuisance. Batting them away, her stomach churned unpleasantly as she caught another whiff of the strange smell. Inexplicably, she turned towards the odor, walking dreamily down a busy street, completely ignoring the merchants and their wares.

By the time the Doctor and Jack had found her purse, she was over a mile away, wandering down an increasingly deserted street in a half stupor. The rotting stench abruptly overwhelmed her, however, and she doubled over, retching against a street sign. There was no one except the flies and a dozen or so stray dogs to witness her discomfort, however.

For a fleeting moment, she was clearheaded. Gazing about, she anxiously wondered where she was and why all the market stalls had been abandoned. And then, she inhaled a scent so lovely that a soft smile stole over her face.

It was musky spice and tangy citrus and a just a hint of cream cheese icing, and it was tantalizing. In a daze, she followed her nose. As she walked, she could discern other scents she'd always associated with home and comfort. She smelled Susan's wet clay, the sharp whiff of chlorine that clung to Matthew after a swim meet, and the clean aroma of wet, red grass after rainstorm. It mixed with the dampness of the Hub, the spice and citrus warmth of the men she loved, and the sweetness of her favorite foods. Entranced, she searched for its source.

Stumbling onto a narrow, dirt road over an hour later, she followed the enticing aroma into a decrepit alley. Immediately, her nostrils were again assailed by the stench of rotting meat. Vomiting what little remained in her stomach, she fell to her hands and knees. The sight before her was enough to make anyone sick.

There were over two dozen corpses in various states of decay strewn about the small space. All were partially covered by pulsing purple vines that connected to a single, towering, bulbous seed pod. With each pulse of the vines, the seed pod emitted the stench of the dead from a tiny opening at its peak. It had attracted an inordinate amount of buzzing flies, no doubt lured there by the overwhelming smell of rotten meat.

Choking down bile, Melissa backed quickly away. The carnivorous plant in front of her, colloquially known as the kiss-of-death vine, was indigenous to Stema Young, a jungle planet located in Orion's belt. There it had stiff competition for nutrients, and had developed a psychic olfactory lure to make it easier to subdue its prey. It usually attracted small game the size of rabbits, but without its natural predators, the plant had obviously thrived in Barcelona City, with disastrous results.

After six steps backwards, she once more came under the spell of the plant. Inhaling deeply, she eagerly ran forwards, only to be assaulted by the true stench of the seed pod. Retching violently, she considered her options as she took three careful steps backwards.

Her purse was missing, which meant she had no phone, which meant she had no way of contacting anyone. The pod was expanding to an alarming size. It was going to explode, expelling tiny carnivorous seeds onto the gentle air currents to germinate throughout the city. If that happened, only the dogs with no noses would be immune.

She needed to burn it before it could release the seeds. If she used her respiratory bypass, she might be able to retrieve enough flammable materials to create a funeral pile for the predatory vine. If that didn't work, she'd be stuck between the lure and the stench until the pod opened. Then, the stench would dissipate until she would only smell the lure. Gazing at the corpses not ten feet away, she had a clear picture of what would happen to her then. Determined, she took a deep breath and ran.


	11. The Measure of a Time Lord

Author's Notes - The kiss-o- death vine was inspired by the corpse flower, Venus flytrap, and my strange imagination. Thanks to **Kassandra J** and **dwatlaskrhtcm** for their kind reviews. Hope you enjoy.

* * *

><p>"Do you smell that?"<p>

Jack glanced at the Doctor, wondering what the hell he was talking about. They'd been searching for almost three hours, and were no closer to finding Melissa. They'd left instructions at the hotel that she contact them if she made it back, but so far they hadn't heard from her. Surely, even with her impaired time sense, she would have missed them by now.

When the Captain didn't immediately answer, the Doctor took off by himself. It took Jack a moment to realize he was alone, and another five minutes to find the Doctor in the crowd.

"Tell me next time you go wandering off, would you, Doc? The last thing we need is to get separated now." Impatiently, he waved his hand in front of his face—the stupid flies were everywhere.

Jack's irritation didn't faze the Time Lord, who continued to walk distractedly up the crowded street, bumping into several people without a word of apology. Only when the Captain grabbed his arm, did he snap out of his apparent trance.

"What'd you do that for? Can't you smell it?"

"Smell what? Doctor, you're not making any sense."

"I smell bananas and citrus and cinnamon with just a hint of old books. It's intoxicating, Jack."

In a flash of understanding, Jack recognized that whatever the Doctor was experiencing, it definitely came under the category of intoxicating. It also sounded suspiciously similar to Melissa's much earlier complaint about smelling something weird. As he pondered the significance of the Doctor's behavior, the Time Lord wrenched himself away and took off running. Cursing to himself, Jack did his best to overtake him.

After six blocks, the Captain slowed to a jog, finding the Doctor sauntering down a street teeming with flies, stray dogs, and little else. As soon as he took a deep breath, the aroma hit him. Immediately, he relaxed, matching the Doctor's contented stroll.

"You've got the citrus and bananas all wrong, Doc. It's sunshine and sand, cinnamon and musk, and just a hint of thyme."

Neither spoke much after that. Taking little notice of the abandoned stalls, the swarms of flies or the dogs, they came across a dirt road on the outskirts of the market. It wasn't long before they reached the alley with the carnivorous plant.

Eagerly, they sprinted forward, neither noticing the rotting corpses or the stench of the straining seed pod. Three feet away from the deadly vines, Melissa stepped in front of them, throwing her arms out to halt their progress. They either had to stop or knock her down.

They stopped, but they weren't entirely pleased to find her in their way. "What do you think you're doing?"

"I'm about to burn down a kiss-of-death vine. What in the name of sanity do you two think you're doing?"

For a moment, her answer didn't register, but when it finally did, the Doctor blinked as if waking from a daydream.

"A what of what?" Jack asked impatiently, now pushing against her outstretched arm.

Making a face, the Doctor employed his respiratory bypass, willing himself to ignore the olfactory lure. Looking around the grim alley, he finally saw the reality of the situation. The air was alive with flies, and the ground was littered with corpses. The largest kiss-of-death vine he'd ever seen was covered in haphazard piles of trash. No, not trash—it was covered in bolts of linen, bits of plywood, tattered books, broken crocks of rancid oil, and anything else that might burn. Poking out of the center of the makeshift pyre, he could see the tip of a seed pod that had to be as tall as Melissa.

Instantly, his eyes dropped to his wife. She wasn't pale so much as sickly green, and bloody scratches covered her bare arms. He could only imagine what her legs looked like.

"Where's your jacket?"

The absurdity of the question astounded her. "It's on the pile. You know, you could give me a little help with Jack. He's pushing rather hard."

Immediately, the Doctor wrapped his arms around Jack's torso, ignoring the Captain's cries of indignation. "I can't help for much longer. As soon as I deplete the oxygen in my respiratory bypass, I'll get another dose."

"You can't smell the horrible stench from the seed pod?"

"No, I take it you can?"

"Oh, yeah. I guess I have my hormones to thank for saving me. My sense of smell's so acute right now that it actually overcame the psychic lure. Unfortunately, I have to be this close for it to remain effective. I can't tell you how fun it's been being alternately drugged into a stupor and then heaving bile. Everything else in my stomach's gone."

In that instant, he wanted nothing more to take her away from there, but seeing the state of the plant, he knew the danger as well as she. "How much more fuel do you need?"

"I found a shop that sold alcohol on my last foray. I thought I'd grab as many bottles as I can carry and set it ablaze."

At that point, Jack's struggles increased to the point that even the Doctor had trouble holding him. "Go," he ordered through clenched teeth. If she didn't hurry, both he and the Captain would be nothing more than extra fuel for the pile.

Running as fast as she could manage, Melissa broke into the abandoned liquor store. Grabbing a sturdy sack, she filled it with ten of the largest bottles of alcohol she could lift and then carefully slung it over her shoulder.

Returning to the alley, she watched the Doctor's face slowly turn purple; his respiratory bypass must be exhausted. With a grunt of effort, she hurled the full sack at the base of her pile. It crashed against the flameable debris, breaking most of the bottles and soaking the canvas sack in alcohol. Tearing the hem of her sundress, she wrapped it around an oil soaked plank of wood she'd been saving and then lit it. With a practiced underhand toss, she threw it onto the pile.

A small fireball engulfed the now dusky sky as the makeshift pyre blazed brightly. The pod was quickly incinerated, the millions of hazardous seeds charred to nothing more than black ashes. The psychic lure was quickly superseded by the all too real smell of cooking flesh, jolting Jack to his senses.

"What the hell is going on?"

Gasping for air, the Doctor braced himself against the Captain's body. "Later, Jack. Let's get Emma to the TARDIS and then we'll talk."

Swiveling around, Jack frantically searched for her. She was leaning against the entrance to a dilapidated restaurant about thirty feet away. He waved, but she didn't return his greeting. Instead, she stared blankly at the bonfire. In fact, she didn't react to either one of them until they were close enough to touch her. When the Doctor wiped some soot off her cheek, she smiled.

"I saved Barcelona City."

"Yes, you did," he acknowledged with a grin. "How about we take a little rest in the TARDIS before we inform the authorities, though. I have a feeling the explanation might take a while."

"I could use a rest."

"Brilliant! We'll find the local equivalent of a taxi and be back at the resort in no time at all. Well, when I say very little time . . . . Well, it will take a while to walk to a spot-oh, you know what I mean."

As he and Jack moved farther away from the roaring fire, he couldn't help but notice that she didn't follow. "Aren't you coming, Em?"

"Yeah."

She made no move to do so, however. In fact, she made no effort to look at them. Instead, her eyes were still focused in the distance towards the bonfire. Her behavior alarmed both men, but Jack reached her first.

"Sweetheart? Are you okay?"

"I'm perfect. I've decided to rest here, that's all."

Her answer bewildered him. "Why here? It smells like burnt roast and I think a fly just tried to crawl in my ear."

"I saved the city."

The Doctor shook his head in warning before the Captain could ask what that had to do with anything. Carefully, the Time Lord waved his hand in front of her face. She didn't as much as blink. Investigating further, he saw the unhealthy sheen of a cold sweat highlighting her increasing pallor.

Being extremely careful with his answer, the Doctor made his voice as soothing and gentle as possible. "Yes, you did. You might have even saved the planet. Let Jack and I take you back to the TARDIS. The vine scraped your skin. We'll put some Triplexian wound cream on it and you'll be as good as new.

Her tone became more forceful, although they noticed that her hands now trembled. "I may not be a Time Lord anymore, but I saved the city, and I can damn well rest where I want to. I am not going to faint like some stupid damsel in distress."

"Of course you're not."

Taking her hand, he swiftly pulled her into his embrace, and then swept her off her feet, carrying her as easily as a human might carry a young child. He'd hoped that she would vigorously protest her treatment, but she was limp in his arms. Silently cursing her stubbornness, he vainly searched the deserted street for transportation.

"Jack, contact Donna and have her pilot the TARDIS. Tell her to use Emergency Program Four."

It was a testament to Jack's restraint that he obeyed the Doctor without asking a single question. After a heated discussion with a member of the resort staff, he was finally able to speak to Donna, who immediately agreed to help. Not a minute later, the TARDIS materialized in front of them.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Jack?"

"Hello, Sweetheart. How are you feeling?"

Glancing up at the familiar ceiling tiles of the TARDIS infirmary, Melissa answered grudgingly. "Stupid . . . and hungry."

That earned her a grin. "So, just about normal, huh?"

"Jack!"

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he patted her leg. "Hey! I'm not the one who decided she didn't need help. What were you planning to do? Lean against that building forever? You were so woozy, you couldn't even see."

"I—maybe I was being a little too stubborn." Then, not entirely sure she hadn't dreamt it, she asked timidly, "Did he really carry me?"

"Hell, yes, he picked you up about a second before you lost consciousness. I would have taken a picture if I hadn't been so scared that something was seriously wrong with you or the babies."

Her hands flew to her stomach. "Everything's fine. Isn't it?"

In her alarm, she had pushed herself upright, and Jack took the opportunity to wrap her in his arms. "Everything's fine, Sweetheart. Martha examined you. She's got you hooked up to an IV to replenish your fluids, and as soon as the Doctor shows up, I'm sure he'll have something for you to eat. The TARDIS has gotten very protective of you, you know. She's probably trapped him in the kitchen so he can fix you a plate."

"I'm sorry I scared you."

He'd changed at some point into his usual clothes, and she buried her head against his chest, inhaling the fresh, citrusy scent that was Jack and the faintest hint of starch. When she had convinced herself that everything was just about perfect, she looked up into his eyes.

They studied each other for a moment, and then their lips crashed together. She did her best to forget her ordeal as he plumbed the depths of her mouth. Very reluctantly, he pulled back, tucking her hair behind her ears before kissing her hand.

"I'm sorry we lost you. I shouldn't have wandered off to look at that junk."

Her lips curved upwards. "Shouldn't that be my line?"

Tracing the contour of her chin with his thumb, he didn't answer. Instead, he kissed her slowly, tenderly, but with no less passion. He was still kissing her when the Doctor walked in few minutes later.

"She's feeling better, I see," he remarked drolly as Jack ended the kiss. Melissa's satisfied grin was answer enough.

"Hungry?" With a flourish, he placed a tray filled with fried chicken, mashed potatoes, corn on the cob, and carrot cake on her lap.

"I'm starving."

She'd put enough emphasis on the word to make it a wicked double entendre, and the Doctor flushed. "Yes, well, as tempting as that may be, Martha would like you to stay in the infirmary for another day of observation. I don't think she would count that as rest."

Already eating a piece of chicken, she enjoyed his momentary discomfort. He hovered protectively over her until he was convinced that she was fine, and then he sat in the battered chair next to the bed. As she continued to eat her meal, Jack casually rested his hand on the Doctor's knee.

He found his mental image in the console room of the TARDIS, facing the Doctor. "Is there something you're not telling me? Is Martha worried about something specific?"

"No, Captain, she thinks the dehydration was the worst of it. The bed rest is just a precaution."

"She was lucky."

Leaning against one of the coral struts, the Doctor disagreed. "She was brilliant. We were lucky."

"Yeah, we were. So, uh, are you going to talk to her?"

"I take it you were too busy to talk?"

It wasn't often that Jack Harkness looked abashed, but he was doing a good job of it this time. "We talked. She's in a much better mood. I just thought the Time Lord stuff might sound better coming from you."

Raising his eyebrows, the Doctor stared frankly at his bond mate. "Well, this is certainly a switch, Jack. You're not usually the one who runs away."

"Look, Doc. I've been through this once before in the other timeline. I'm not avoiding the issue. I couldn't convince her that her brain damage didn't change who she was then, so what makes you think I can now when it's significantly worse?"

Running his hand through his hair, the Doctor paced around the console. "It doesn't matter to me whether she can see the timelines or if she wants to eat fish and chips at three in the morning. She's still the same woman I fell in love with."

"You're right, but it's not me you need to convince."

"You really think she'll listen to me instead of you?"

"I think you're the only one she might listen to. No matter how much she loves me, I'm still a stupid ape."

"Don't, Captain, just don't. If my former self was here, I'd give him a swift kick in the arse for ever using those words. You're not stupid, Jack, and I should never have called you or any other human an ape."

Embarrassed, Jack waved away the Doctor's praise. "I am what I am, Doc, and that's not a Time Lord. You need to talk to her, or she's going to end up hurting herself trying to prove that she's worthy of our respect. If she goes out on a mission with that attitude, she's likely not to come back."

"Fine. I'll do it, but you owe me, Captain."

"I'm sure you can come up with a suitable method of repayment." With a final smirk, he added, "Good luck. You're going to need it."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Jack stayed in the infirmary for a few more minutes before he fabricated a reason to leave. Melissa continued to eat, ignoring the Doctor's presence. When she had cleaned her plates, she placed the tray on the table and carefully stood up.

"Where do you think you're going? You're still hooked up to the IV."

"It's on a nice metal pole with casters, see?" Trailing it behind her, she washed her hands in the sink. "My hands are greasy from the fried chicken, so I'm washing them. And, then I'm going to the toilet. I imagine I'll wash my hands again after that. Any other hygienic function you want to know about, Doc?"

Damn, Jack had said she was in a good mood. "You were unconscious for almost three hours, Em. I can't help worrying."

"Worry all you want. We may be bond mates, but I still don't have to tell you every time I take a piss."

He let her go to the toilet by herself. Her vulgar language told him just how upset she really was, and he had suspicion that it wasn't entirely related to his over protectiveness. For a moment, he considered calling Jack into the room so they could tag team, but decided to hold the Captain in reserve.

She returned exhausted from her short trip and didn't protest when he helped her into bed. He decided to take that as a positive sign. Pulling out his stethoscope, he warmed it before placing it on her chest. Repositioning a few times, he listened intently to her hearts.

"Okay, Doc. I give up, what are you doing?"

"Well, you told me you weren't a Time Lord anymore. I wanted to hear what just having one heart sounded like, but you still have two."

She rolled her eyes, too tired to make her response any more biting. "You know what I meant."

Smiling, he did his best imitation of befuddlement. "I really don't. Maybe you could explain it to me."

She wished he'd just disappear, but when she opened her eyes, he was still sitting next to her. "I can't do all those Time Lord-y things anymore. Therefore, I am no longer a Time Lord."

"Ah, Time Lord-y things. I understand perfectly now. So, basically, you no longer have a penchant for political intrigue, backbiting, betrayal and blackmail."

"That doesn't describe a Time Lord, and you know it."

"What? I think it describes the High Council perfectly, my brother included."

"Doc!"

"Ooh, tetchy. Perhaps you could give me an example of one of these Time Lord-y things, so I don't make any more embarrassing assumptions."

Sitting up, she balled her hands into fists, wishing at that moment she could hit him. "You know full well what I'm talking about. Being a Time Lord means you devote your life to upholding the Web of Time. We protect the lesser species from outside influences and sometimes themselves. We keep the fixed points fixed, and let those in flux flow. But I can't see the Web of Time anymore, much less understand what it is. I wouldn't know a fixed point if it hit me in the face. I'm nothing more than a ghost, an afterimage of something that was so much more."

Studying her for a moment, his expression turned surprisingly derisive. "Really, Emma, I understand you're pregnant, but I certainly didn't expect this much drama from you."

Completely gobsmacked, her voice caught in her throat. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," he answered insistently, "that you are being ridiculous." Before she could even think to be angry, he swiftly explained. "You're judging yourself far too harshly. Yes, you've been injured, and yes, one of your senses is impaired. But, if Jack were to be blinded tomorrow, you'd still call him human, wouldn't you?"

Unwillingly, she nodded in agreement and he pressed on. "You've devoted most of your life to upholding the Web of Time, but that isn't who you are. It's merely what you do. And, you still managed to protect the lesser species today, even with you disability. You are brilliant, you know, and still a Time Lord, no matter what you might think."

Her throat was too tight to speak, and she could feel her mouth pulling into a frown as she fought tears. She desperately wanted to believe him.

Solemnly, he placed his hand on her rounded stomach. He had a feeling she was worried about something far more monumental than her disability. "You told us that you couldn't terminate the pregnancy because it wasn't the babies' fault, and I respect your decision, you know. It's admirable that you treat life as a precious gift. But, you didn't choose this. I'm asking you now; do you want to be a mother again?"

Lips quivering, she couldn't meet his eyes. Silent tears ran down her face, and her chest hurt from the magnitude of emotions his question had unleashed. Eventually, she placed her hand over his.

"Yes."

His own eyes filled with tears, and he tenderly stroked her cheek until she met his gaze. When he spoke, his voice was surprisingly hoarse. "Good. That's good, isn't it? I know Jack is positively giddy at the prospect. And, I never thought I'd say this, but I think I'm ready to be a father again. You are our wife, and we love you dearly."

Then, before she could completely absorb the enormity of what he'd just said, the Doctor grinned at her playfully, intentionally lightening his tone. "So, snap at us all you want, but the Captain and I are going to be over protective until the children are born and probably long after that. We're a family now, Em."

A family—the tightness in her chest unraveled with that one word, and she managed a tremulous smile. Careful of the IV, the Doctor walked around to the other side of the bed, lying down beside her to encase her in a protective cocoon. Gently, he caressed her stomach until they both fell into a restful sleep.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Hours later, Martha found them curled up together, Jack dozing fitfully in the chair. The Captain woke as she was removing Melissa's IV.

"Martha. Everything alright?"

"Everything's fine, Jack. Just wondering how much I should charge for the house call."

"Charge whatever you want to Torchwood. I'm sure Her Majesty would be happy to pick up the tab."

"She might at that. I hear she's partial to you and the Doctor."

"Long stories, both of them. Ask me again sometime. Sorry your holiday turned into a working vacation."

"As soon as I stepped into the TARDIS, I knew there'd be some sort of excitement. Besides, it's not that bad. Mickey and I are sleeping in my old room tonight. It almost feels like I'm at home."

"I doubt you'd be sleeping with Mickey at Francine's."

"True, Mum's a bit old-fashioned. I haven't even told her I'm dating again yet."

"You did tell her about Tom, didn't you, Martha?"

"The day it happened. She was quite pleased. She never liked the fact that Tom put his work above me, says I should come first. Mum's always been a bit . . . ." She shrugged, not knowing how to finish that sentence.

"Francine only wants the best for you, and there's nothing wrong with that. You deserve to come first, Martha Jones." Then, without a hint of teasing, he added, "Mickey adores you, you know."

Flushing, she looked at Jack in surprise. "And you're determined to play matchmaker now that every one of your fantasies is coming true?"

Watching fondly as the Doctor and Melissa slept, he couldn't help but grin. "Why not? Mickey's a good kid. He's grown a lot since I first met him. Besides, you wouldn't have to lie to him about your job."

"Don't let Mickey hear you calling him a kid. He's twenty-seven. I think that classifies him as an adult."

"And I'm a hundred and seventy-six, give or take nineteen hundred years. I think I can call him a kid if I want."

The physician in Martha suddenly took over. "You should really let me examine you, Jack. You've only been mortal a few days. No telling what state your body's in."

Melissa frowned in her sleep, and Jack decided to take the conversation into the hall. "The Doc checked me soon after I revived. Physically, I'm in my mid thirties, just like I was before the Game Station. If I'm lucky, I've got another hundred years."

"Humans live that long?"

"It's the fifty-first century, Martha. You can live longer if you're really desperate, but the brain starts to decay after one-fifty, no matter how many genetic enhancements you've had. I'd rather die with a little dignity."

Suddenly, it hit her that he actually was going to die at some point. And, then she realized that if he kept working for Torchwood, he wouldn't have to worry about reaching old age. "Don't talk like that, Jack."

"Like what?"

"Like you're going to die. It's just wrong. You were the one who was going to outlive all of us, who was going to keep our memories alive with those crazy stories you tell. I've gotten so used to you being immortal that I can't imagine you dying now."

"Yeah? Well, I've been thinking about it a lot. And, I've got to admit, it doesn't bother me as much as I thought it would. I'm going to be a dad, and that's good enough for me."

"What are you talking about? I thought you said you and Melissa weren't compatible, or do you have someone on the side?"

"Being a dad's not an act of biology, Martha. I'll love her kids as if they were my own. Besides, someone has to teach them bananas aren't the only food group."

Brightening, she replied, "And marmalade. They'll probably eat it by the jar."

"Why not? The Doc certainly does." He was about to tell her good night, when she blindsided him with another question.

"Have you ever had a child of your own?"

"Once," he acknowledged, finding it unexpectedly difficult to talk about. "I had the most beautiful baby girl. She was born with a heart defect and lived four days."

"Oh, Jack, I'm so sorry. I can't imagine what you went through, knowing that if she'd been born later, she wouldn't have died."

"Everyone dies, Martha. But, for those four days, I felt so alive. She was a miracle, even with her heart defect, and her mother and I treasured every minute we had with her. In a horrible situation, she was our joy."

Impulsively, Martha threw her arms around Jack, giving him an encouraging hug. "You're going to be a great dad, Jack. And, I think the Doctor and Melissa are lucky to have you."

"Definitely the other way around there, Martha, but thanks. Now, don't you have a boyfriend to sleep with?"

Her face split into a wide grin. "Excellent suggestion, Mr. Harkness. I'll see you in the morning, yeah?"

"Yeah."

Watching Martha jog down the hallway, Jack hoped things would work out between her and Mickey. She was right; every one of his fantasies was coming true. Why shouldn't it be the same for them?"


	12. Of Families and Fairy Tales

Author's Notes - Last chapter in Barcelona, the planet, not the city. Surprisingly, this one ended up with some of Jack's backstory and a Bad Wolf reference. Let me know what you think. And, yes, I wish I had written the rest of Donna's evening, tangent or not. It would have been highly entertaining. Hope you enjoy!

Thanks again to **dwatlaskrhtcm** and **Kassandra J** for sharining their opinions. I really appreciate it!

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><p>"What do you think of the dogs with no noses now?"<p>

Busily eating her dessert, Melissa nodded enthusiastically at Jack. The dinner show had proven to be very entertaining, even if Martha had made them postpone their evening out. Barcelona's dogs might not be able to smell, but they could certainly bark on key. She'd never seen such a primitive species perform with such precision.

"Well, I think it's marvelous," Donna gushed, sloppily holding up a fruity and very alcoholic drink. If she wasn't careful, she'd have a red stain on her purple blouse. "Who knew a bunch of canines could bark out the _1812 Overture_? Besides Spaceman, of course. And, you, Jack, you must have seen this once or twice before."

"Oh, yeah. I've been here a couple of times, Donna. While the show's good, it's the illegal casino in the basement that's worth the visit. I've played poker there many a night. You just have to be careful with the other games. They load the dice and rig the roulette wheel. The cards are probably marked, too, but no one deals from the bottom of the deck, and the possibility makes for a more interesting game."

"Well what are we waiting for?" Donna asked loudly. "Let's go try our luck."

Deftly, the Doctor took Donna's drink out of her hand. "Let's not. Knowing Jack, there's bound to be someone downstairs nursing a grudge, and I, for one, have had enough excitement on Barcelona."

Deliberately, Donna took her drink from his hand and drained it. "You may have had enough excitement, Martian Boy, but I haven't. And, nobody's going to recognize me. Think I'll take my chances. Besides, I've got you in my head. Even if they cheat at blackjack, I can still win. They'll never know what hit 'em."

Lurching up, Donna straightened. Daring the Doctor to say anything else, she pulled out her lipstick from her purse and refreshed her makeup. As she walked away, they could hear her call to the manager. "Oi! Where's this casino everyone keeps telling me about?"

Melissa started to laugh, but the Doctor didn't think it was very funny. "She's drunk. And when they figure out that she can count cards, there's no telling what they'll do."

"Don't worry, Boss. Martha and I thought we'd check out the casino, too. It's not exactly a well kept secret. We'll keep an eye on Donna."

"Is everyone suddenly insane or is it just me?"

"It's only you, Doc." Jack grinned to soften his bluntness. "Donna can take care of herself. More importantly, downstairs is pretty tame. Yeah, the odds are stacked in the house's favor, but they always are. And, even if they figure out she's counting cards, they aren't going to do anything more than ask her to leave. This place is strictly for the tourist crowd, and they aren't going to hurt a tourist."

It was apparent that the Time Lord wanted to refute that assertion, but he kept his opinions mostly to himself. "Fine. Martha, Mickey, make sure she gets back to her own room tonight."

"So long as she doesn't find a better one." Martha's cheekiness even shocked herself. She'd definitely been spending too much time with Jack. Sipping a green fizzy drink, she did her best to look contrite, but her act was ruined when a sly smile stole over her face.

The Doctor mumbled a word, and only Melissa could make out that he'd said "humans" in a disgruntled tone. Taking pity on him, she announced, "I'm getting a little tired. I think I'll skip the gambling."

"I'll come with you," Jack stated swiftly. For all his protestations that the casino was harmless, he had no desire to meet anyone from his past while in the company of his two bond mates. It was bad enough that they knew about John and Gray.

"That's that, then." Paying the bill, the Doctor wished Martha and Mickey a good evening before escorting Melissa and Jack outside. "Are you actually tired?" he asked solicitously.

"No," she admitted with a teasing smile. "I thought I'd save you from putting your foot in your mouth again. You can thank me later."

"Oi!"

"She's right, Doc. You can't treat them like children, especially Donna. She has the mind of a Time Lord, for god's sake. Save the mothering, or in this case the fathering, for your own children. I'm sure you'll have ample opportunity."

Glaring at Jack, the Doctor pretended to be highly insulted, and then he deliberately relaxed his features, cheerfully smirking at them both. "You win, Captain. You're right, I can't worry about everyone. I'll have to satisfy myself with the two of you."

Melissa groaned. "I am not having this argument again. You two obviously know this planet much better than I do. Find something for us to do." When they didn't immediately suggest anything, she began to amble along the illuminated boardwalk by the river.

"Well, the botanical gardens are beautiful at—"

Slapping Jack lightly on the arm, she shook her head. "No gardens. I've had enough of exotic plants."

"She's got a point there, Captain."

"Well, I don't hear you suggesting anything, Doc."

"Actually, I was thinking of stargazing."

"On Barcelona? What could you possibly see that might be interesting here?"

Discomfited, the Doctor rubbed the back of his neck. "Well," he drawled, "to be perfectly honest, I wasn't thinking about stargazing on Barcelona. I thought you might like to see the stars you grew up with, Jack."

"You want to go to Boeshane? Why?" Jack couldn't think of a single reason to return to his childhood home.

"I, uh, thought you might want to introduce us to your family."

Even Melissa was shocked by his reaction. "What the **HELL** are you thinking, Doc? I know you're occasionally rude, but I didn't think you were intentionally cruel. You want me to cross my own timeline so you can meet my parents? What do you expect me to say to them—sorry you all meet unhappy endings, but I wanted to let you know I'm fine?"

Immediately comprehending the mix-up, the Doctor put his hands out in a placating gesture. "Stop right there, Captain. I did not mean meeting your parents or Gray. I'm truly sorry you ever thought that. But, you're about to become a father, and I know there are certain rituals the Shanii follow to accept a child into their clans. I just thought you'd prefer to introduce us to your extended family before the twins are born rather than afterwards."

Jack's outrage died in an instant, to be replaced by astonishment and a deep-seated sense of unworthiness. "You'd be willing to have the twins acknowledged as Shanii? They're going to be Time Lords, Doc."

"And one of their fathers is human. I think it's just as important that we honor your customs as much as our own, and I think Emma would agree."

"Of course I agree."

Roughly, Jack pulled them both into his embrace. Alarmed at his sudden emotion, Melissa rubbed his back. "Jack, are you okay?"

Looking down at her, he wiped his eyes. "Yeah, very okay. It's just hard to understand sometimes what you two see in me."

Ruffling the Captain's hair, the Doctor asked, "Shall I make a list?"

"He doesn't need a list, Doc. He needs to get through that thick skull of his that we love him unconditionally."

Regaining a measure of composure, Jack playfully kissed Melissa on the forehead. "Says the woman who thought an injury was going to change the way we felt about her."

"Okay, so we all have issues. Doesn't change the fact that you're going to be a father. The Doc's right; we should go to Boeshane now and introduce ourselves to your clan."

The grin faded from Jack's face. "As much as I'd love to, I can't. After my mother died, my clan disavowed me."

"WHAT?" Now it was the Doctor's turn to react badly. "Why the hell would they do that?"

"How much do you know of the Shanii clans, Doctor? When I first travelled with you, I got the impression that you hadn't been to Boeshane."

Stuffing his hands in his pockets, the Doctor tried to hide his embarrassment. "The TARDIS might have recently left some research material in the library. The old girl seems to have been rather thorough."

Jack wasn't sure if he wanted to thank the TARDIS or curse her for that, so he didn't comment on the ship's sudden initiative. "Do you know what the famine stones were for?"

Guardedly, he nodded. "They were a cairn of stones built outside the boundary of each clan. If food became too scarce, infants were left near the cairn. The other clans could claim them if they didn't die of exposure or were killed by predators first."

Peering at the Captain, he saw Jack's grimace of resignation. In a flash of insight, he knew what his bond mate was about to say, and he didn't like it one bit. "But that's preposterous! By the time you were born, the stones were nothing more than a cultural relic. They hadn't been used for centuries. The peninsula might have been more primitive than the capital, but by the fifty-first century, there was plenty of food to go around. Besides, adoption into a clan is just as binding as birth."

"Not if they think you bring bad luck."

Melissa, who had been following along well enough, felt her knees go weak. Determinedly, she locked them, forcing herself to remain still. Jack didn't need any extra drama as he unburdened himself. By the pained expression on his face, it was obvious that the subject was still difficult for him.

"Couldn't one of us have had a normal childhood?" she asked irreverently. The touch of gallows humor gave him the strength to continue.

"Oh, my childhood was normal, idyllic, even—until the day of the raid. My father was killed outright, and when I lost hold of Gray, he was taken." Pausing for a brief moment, he acknowledged quietly, "But you know about that."

"What you don't know is that my mother couldn't handle it. She refused to accept that Gray was gone. She took sick soon afterwards. Although the doctors insisted it was psychosomatic, she was dead within four years."

"Jack, you don't have to—"

"I do, Doc. What we experience in the bond, the three of us, it's like laying my soul bare. But every time, I've held this back, and I can't any more, not if I'm going to accept you love me unconditionally. I thought I could pretend I'm nothing more than Captain Jack Harkness, but there were things that came before, things that influenced the man I've become, and this is one of them."

Quietly, Melissa took Jack's hand and then the Doctor's. "Show us."

_He/she/they were standing in a dust choked freighter terminal. Most everyone was taller, and they could feel the lump of fear in the child that would be Jack's throat. The boy held a hologram of a younger boy in his hand, asking passersby if they had seen Gray as desperately as a starving man might beg in the streets. The answer, when he got one, was always the same—no. Eventually, the child turned his feet towards home, not because he had given up, but because the terminal had gone into its rest mode._

_The path was a practiced one; the boy had walked this way many times before. His pale skin soaked in the last rays of sunlight; his tan long since faded as he spent all his time inside the dreary spaceport. He didn't care; the fear was in his chest now as he thought of the reception he'd receive at home. _

_The taunting started early. He'd been too preoccupied to notice the group of boys loitering near the outskirts of the village, and was thus unable to avoid them. _

"_Don't know why you're still pretending to look for Gray, shit-face. We all know you gave him to the raiders. You were jealous 'cause your parents loved him more. My mother told me how you aren't really their son. No wonder your mom doesn't want to see you."_

_The boy who would one day grow to be a Time Agent kept his head down and continued on his way. Eventually, the group got bored and left him alone. Wiping some non-existent dust out of his eyes, he entered the mercantile. Carefully counting his credits, he bought a tin of protein and two large tubers. Maybe his mother could be cajoled into eating that night. _

_The merchant handed him his change easily enough, but he didn't smile and slip him a sweet with his receipt like he used to before the raid. In fact, none of the businessmen in town chatted with him much anymore, save a gruff inquiry as to whether or not he had found everything he needed. Strange that the child hadn't noticed this discrepancy before._

_When he arrived home it was late and his mother was dozing in a chair, a digital memory book in her hand. He didn't wake her, but cooked instead, slicing up the protein and frying it with some seasonings while he baked the tubers. Only when he had the plates on the table did he disturb her rest._

_She'd had a good day, and ate most of her dinner before beginning her usual interrogation. Once she understood that no one had seen Gray, she made him retell the events of the raid. Again, he recalled letting go of his brother's hand, and again, he quietly confessed that he had not been able to find him afterwards. She never asked about her husband, his father, but he'd stopped wondering why long since. _

_His stomach began to feel a little queasy. She'd finished with her usual subjects, but wasn't quite tired of talking just yet. For the boy, this marked the most traumatic part of the day. He never knew what she might reveal, and he never, ever, knew if she was speaking the truth._

"_The Clan Chief came to speak to me today."_

_He remained silent. He'd found long ago that it was best not to interrupt her, but his stomach churned just a little more._

"_He said that the hydroponics pod malfunctioned again. That's that tenth time since the raid, and the authorities are getting anxious. Any more interruptions in its water supply and most of the crops will fail for the season. We'd be forced to barter for food. He said you'd been seen around there several times. Do you know why he'd say a thing like that?"_

_Again, silence was the best option, although she grew much more animated. "They think you're bad luck, you know. Just because I found you instead of birthing you. And ever since the raid, they think you're trouble. They see you around the crops again, and you'll be stranded alone in the desert. And everyone thinks you're a coward now that you saved yourself instead of your brother. But we know different, don't we, my boy?"_

_His relief was so great that he briefly rested his head against the table. She must be having a really good day. The words slipped softly out of his mouth. "I'm sorry, Mother. I'll find Gray; I promise."_

_It was the worst thing he could have said. Her expression turned hard and unforgiving. "It's your fault he's gone, so you better find him. You're the extra. It's Gray I want, not some changeling who has no business being alive. You know my husband talked me into taking you. Said you must have survived for a reason, but see where that kind of thinking got him?"_

_He nodded, agreeing in the hope she would stop talking, but it rarely worked. Every time something like that came from her mouth, he'd tell himself she was sick and didn't know what she was saying, but deep down, he knew it was the truth. He was the extra, and trouble and most definitely a coward. _

_Little by little, he put a wall around himself and other people. The taunts continued, but they no longer hurt like they used to. He still spent most of his time at the transportation terminal, but he didn't ask always ask about Gray. Most days, he did odd jobs to earn enough credit to feed his mother, who was now bedridden. He found he had a passion for mechanics, and had been told by numerous people that he was magnificent at sex. Sex paid better, and you didn't have to get your hands dirty—much. Still, there was something about taking apart a piece of machinery that was simply fantastic. After a while, he became equally skilled at both._

_The Clan Chief found out that he was selling his body about a year before his mother died. He informed the rest of the clan, of course, and the boy who'd grown to be not quite a man was subsequently shunned. Funny, by then he didn't feel as mortified as he had expected to be. _

_The shunning meant that the other boys didn't acknowledge him to tease him anymore, but the merchants still took his credits. He didn't stop selling his services, mechanical or otherwise. No one in his clan had come forward to care for his mother, and he wasn't about to let her starve._

_The day she died, a Time Agent showed up on the peninsula. He was confident, cocky and suitably impressed with the young man's skills, mechanical and otherwise. He offered to take the teen away with him and sponsor him for the Academy. In retrospect, it had been a ridiculously easy choice. He'd even convinced his one remaining friend to come along, with horrible consequences. _

_By the time he was a full-fledged Time Agent, he knew all about temporal mechanics and relative history, and any of a number of other subjects necessary to be a good field operative. But at his core, he held onto just three absolutes. He didn't deserve anyone's love. Sex wasn't a great substitute for love, but for a while, it made it easy to forget. And, most importantly, he couldn't count on anyone but himself. Those principles served him well for many years._

"Oh, Jack. I'm so sorry."

She took him away from the desert, changing the scenery to the bedroom they had shared in the alternate timeline. The Doctor accompanied them, intimately familiar with these particular memories. With an intensity that left no possibility of doubt, the two Time Lords proved just how much they loved the human known as Captain Jack Harkness.

When the three finally returned to their separate minds, they were sitting on a bench near the riverbank, chilled and damp as the midnight fog rolled in. Resting her head against his chest, Melissa murmured dreamily. "You've got a family now, Jack."

He was touched by her sentiment and absurdly amused by her sudden lethargy. He gently pushed her over until she was leaning against the Doctor. Standing, he cracked his stiff back. "I think you two proved that a few minutes ago, you know."

She didn't answer, burrowing her head into the Doctor's jacket as she attempted to get more comfortable. Smiling indulgently, the Doctor handed her to Jack, who had to stifle a chuckle. "Your carriage has definitely turned into a pumpkin, Sleeping Beauty. It's time to get you to bed."

Bleary-eyed, she privately admitted that he was right, and there was no reason to be stubborn about it. "You're confusing your fairytales again, Jack. If we have daughters, you're going to need to brush up on your bedtime stories."

Rapidly sobering, he said, "The only fairytale I'm going to tell our children is Little Red Riding Hood. Someone needs to warn them about the Big, Bad Wolf."

The unpleasant thought that the Bad Wolf might one day interject herself into the lives of their children cast a pall on the evening like the weather never could. The Doctor seemed especially troubled.

"Surely, she won't involve herself again, Captain. The Daleks are dust. Rose is content, living the life she always wanted with me. And, the three of us are looking forward to becoming parents again. Why would she have reason to interfere?"

Melissa shuddered, as if someone had stepped on her grave. "She's the Bad Wolf, Doc. Does she really need a reason? She's been interfering in my life since I was eight."

"But, that's the point, Em. She's always had a reason. First, she recruited you to protect me. Then, she brought Jack back to life because she loved him. The last time, I think she was trying to reward us, like she rewarded Rose by giving her a human version of me."

Jack thought the Doctor was being far too reasonable. "Think about it, Doc! Everything she does is way too complicated. Rose held the power of the Time Vortex inside her. She could have willed Gallifrey into existence at the exact same time she willed the Daleks to dust. So, why'd she turn me immortal in the first place if she only intended me to die? And, she must have known how dangerous the pregnancy would be. Why not just give us the kids already born? Logically, none of what she does makes any sense!"

The Doctor looked like he wanted to argue, but Melissa interrupted. Although it didn't make her feel any better, she thought she understood. "The Bad Wolf might have been omniscient and omnipotent, but that doesn't mean she was wise, Jack. Rose was her frame of reference. Think about it. As a twenty-first century human, Rose knew about in vitro fertilization, but she had no experience with the looms on Gallifrey or even artificial wombs. And, she brought you back to life without thinking of the consequences. Rassilon was the one who took advantage of that, not her. I'm not sure she intended to restore Gallifrey at all."

Rubbing his hand on the back of his neck, the Doctor knew they could continue the debate forever, and it had to stop. "Look, we could argue this until the twins are born, but we can't do anything about it. The best we can do is hope that she's out of our lives."

"Hope's a good thing." Melissa chimed in with much more optimism than she felt. Even Jack dropped the subject. However, as they walked quietly walked back to their hotel, the subject of the Bad Wolf definitely became the elephant in the room. They might have agreed to ignore it, but it was definitely still there. And, they were all very afraid it would dodge them for the rest of their lives—and the lives of their children.


	13. Holiday's Over, Babe

Author's Notes - The action moves back to Cardiff as the Doctor's brother makes an appearance; Jack does his best to explain his new reality to his old team; and Melissa learns the sex of the twins. Hope you enjoy! A big thank you to **Kassandra J** for sharing her opinion. If I ever write of Donna's night gambling on Barcelona, I promise to post it. And, thanks to all my readers.

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><p>Four days (and five weeks) after arriving on Barcelona, the group returned to Cardiff tanned and relaxed.<p>

"Melissa's right. I missed this place." Descending into the Hub with the Doctor, Jack was suffused with a warm feeling of home until he heard a very unwelcome voice.

"Did anyone ever tell you how pretentious that invisible lift is, Agent?"

The Captain stared incredulously at the Doctor's brother, wondering what he was doing in the Hub in the first place. "And hello to you too, Irving," he replied spitefully, having recently learned that the Time Lord had a first name. "Since you seem to be dressed like some arch villain in a panto, I don't think you have any room to judge."

Brax flicked an imaginary speck of dust off his formal scarlet robes. "The Council's reconvened. I'm here during a recess to try to talk some sense into the two of you."

Both men suddenly became wary. The Doctor coolly addressed his brother as Jack's eyes swept the Hub. There was no one else in sight. Even if Gwen, Ianto and Drocina were out, Donna, Melissa, Martha and Mickey should have made it through the tourist entrance by now.

"And why do you think you need to do that, Brax?"

"Because your little scheme doesn't have a chance of working. There might still be time to get back to Gallifrey and discretely take care of your problem before the Council drags you back kicking and screaming. We can take Emma to a physician I trust and terminate this twisted abomination growing inside her before the three of you are detained and she's turned into a sentient lab rat. I can force Drocina to keep her mouth shut about any suspicions she might have, and no one on the High Council's going to bother questioning a bunch of stupid apes."

"They've summoned us already?" The Doctor was feeling an emotion he rarely experienced—panic.

"The Council's in turmoil," he noted dismissively. "It isn't everyday that a god shows up in the Panopticon, plus your accusation that Rassilon willfully interfered with the Emissary's timeline is giving some of them pause. It will be months before they've dealt with the political fallout and have regrouped enough to even think about summoning you. But, they will, and when they do, they'll be able to add as well as I."

Becoming earnest, he gripped his brother's shoulder. "I can understand your desire to protect her, Thete, but you must see that it isn't going to work. She's impaired and no doubt confused, and for her own safety you must make her understand that she cannot carry this thing to term."

"Twins." Jack spoke up unexpectedly. "She's pregnant with twins."

Braxiatel glared at Jack before recovering some of his equilibrium. "All the more reason to force her to terminate. She'll thank you once she's regenerated and recovered her wits."

His voice clipped, the Doctor responded coldly. "She lost her time sense, not her wits. The decision is hers, and she's already made it." Then, more confidently, he added, "And, you don't have to worry about the Council. She's five weeks pregnant. Even they can count. Stop trying to make things more difficult than they are."

"I have no intention of making things difficult, Doctor. You three have definitely made them difficult enough." Softening his expression, he asked earnestly, "She's truly five weeks pregnant? You didn't stay longer on Barcelona than you'd planned?"

"No, we didn't."

"And, if you were summoned back to Gallifrey today, you'd arrive . . . .?"

"Today."

Relief flickered across Brax's face. "Good. I won't ask how you managed that. I promise you that I'll do everything in my power to keep the Council confused for as long as possible. Romana's barely holding onto power at the moment, and Amathow is threatening to resign as Chancellor if the all the students do not return."

Then, glaring at Jack, he gave him a stern warning. "Take care, Agent. I don't pretend to know your aims, but if you hurt either my brother or my bond sister in any way, I will make sure you life is as miserable as it is short. Is that understood?"

Jack's answer was bitingly sarcastic. "It's nice to know you care. And, I have a piece of advice for you. Stay out of our way. You've already made Melissa watch one child die. I'm not going to sit by and let you do it again."

"That's enough, Captain," the Doctor commanded. His brother and Jack were too much alike for the exchange to end well. Turning his attention to Brax, he asked, "You will keep her secrets?"

"I always do, Bro." He smiled merrily, although his eyes betrayed him. "You might want to consider that before breaking any confidences." With that puzzling remark, he activated the lift. They watched him from the monitors enter a camouflaged TARDIS, no doubt returning to Gallifrey to dabble in the usual politics.

Turning to the Doctor as soon as Brax was out of sight, Jack asked, "What the hell did he mean by that?"

He didn't get a chance to answer. Donna, Melissa, Martha and Mickey walked into the Hub at the moment, effectively ending the discussion.

"There was a time lock on the door. What was Drocina playing at?"

"Drocina's not here, Donna. Neither are Gwen and Ianto. You and Mickey get on the comms and see if you can find them."

Hearing that, Mickey grinned at Martha. "Holiday's definitely over, babe. Sure you don't want to consider freelance work? We could set our own hours."

"I'm staying here," she answered firmly, although she softened her reply with a smile. "Knowing you, we'd stay on holiday permanently. I'd never get any work done."

"You know you'd enjoy it, though."

The medic didn't answer; she didn't want to inflate Mickey's ego. Instead, she shook her head in exasperation before heading to the autopsy bay. There, she found several bodies waiting for dissection. Within minutes, she had her gloves on. Mickey was right; the holiday was definitely over.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"What do you want me to do?"

Melissa looked expectantly at Jack and the Doctor. Both men froze. They'd discussed possible roles for her at Torchwood several times since the incident with the kiss-of-death vine, but neither had come up with any project that they could safely give her without insulting her intelligence.

The eager smile slipped from her face. "I'm sure there's something I can help with, but if you don't trust me at Torchwood, I understand. Maybe I'd only get in the way."

"No, that's not it at all," the Doctor swiftly assured her. "We have a special project that we want you to work on, don't we, Jack?"

Jack glanced sharply at the Doctor before breaking out in a wide smile. "Yep," he said, making the 'p' pop in wicked imitation. "A very special project." He just hoped he could come up with one in the next five seconds.

"Is it so special you can't tell me?" The smile was back on her face at least.

Racking his brain for a project that couldn't possibly be dangerous, Jack feared he would have to disappoint her. Almost every aspect of working for Torchwood could be hazardous. And now that they were a team of ten, it was becoming increasingly difficult to put everyone in charge of routine tasks. After all, he, Gwen and Ianto had managed just fine on their own for several months. Although, he had to admit, he liked having the Hub full of people. It tended to keep the ghosts at bay. Suddenly, he had an inspiration, but he wasn't sure that she would accept the task gracefully.

"Can we discuss it in my office?"

"Is that code for something else?"

"Tempting, but no."

The Doctor opened his mouth to ask a question, but decided against it. Snapping his jaw shut, he wandered to Mickey's computer terminal. After professing to know about the special project, he couldn't very well ask what it was.

Leaving the Doctor with Mickey and Donna, Jack led Melissa to his office and shut the door. He wasn't smiling, and his wife looked at him in sympathy.

"As long as you don't ask me to sit at the tourist entrance, I won't be insulted, Jack. I can't do field work, and Ianto and Donna are organizing the archives better than I ever could."

Looking far more somber than he intended, Jack sat heavily in his chair. "I need someone to go through the personal effects of deceased agents, starting with Owen's. It's time to get rid of anything that can't pose a threat."

"You want me to go through Owen's things."

Her voice betrayed her emotions, and he took her hand. "If it's going to be too hard—"

"It's not," she firmly interrupted. "It's just . . . it's a shock. I really didn't know him that well."

"He was the same Owen," he promised. "The one you knew simply had a better chance at happiness."

"What happened to my Owen?"

He pulled her onto his lap, reluctant to answer the question. "He and Tosh died together, doing what they knew was right."

"Oh." Resting her head on his shoulder, she almost wished she hadn't asked. After a moment, she decided that she didn't want to know what had happened to the others.

"You okay, Sweetheart?"

"Yeah. Just thinking."

He could guess what thoughts were going through her head. Rubbing her scarred back, he left her to her introspection until she was ready to talk. It was almost twenty minutes later before she spoke.

"What do you want me to do with the ordinary stuff, like clothes and books and kitchen utensils?"

"Give it to charity. Owen was estranged from his family, and no one came forward to ask about his estate. Let someone else get some use from his things."

"And anything that's out of ordinary?"

"Anything you might think is important, give it to Ianto to archive. The rest can be incinerated."

She took a deep breath. "Do you want me to start now?"

"Later. As soon as we find Drocina, you're supposed to have a scan."

"I guess there's no avoiding that."

He rested his right hand on her rounded stomach. "Not a chance. I want to see Thing One and Thing Two for myself."

"Jack! You can't call them that."

"Why not? You can't tell us the sex yet."

She blushed, suddenly sheepish. "I think they're a boy and a girl."

She could feel his excitement as a massive grin lit up his face. "That's brilliant!"

"It's just a feeling-a really strong feeling, but I could be wrong."

"You're not. I promise. I can't believe it! One of each! This is going to be fantastic! Dresses and sailor suits and dolls and pop guns. And Legos, definitely Legos. Alex had kids and he used to tell me how much they liked playing Legos."

Kissing her enthusiastically, he pushed her to her feet before she could say another word. Excitedly, he yanked open the door to his office. "Doc! Get in here! Melissa's got something she needs to tell you!"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It didn't take long to find Ianto, Gwen and Drocina. They were celebrating with their UNIT counterparts at a pub several miles from the Hub. They'd just finished repelling an invasion of space locusts, and felt they were entitled to some downtime. When Jack walked into the somewhat dingy establishment, the young Time Lord sprang from her chair and hastily began apologizing for being away from her post. Ianto and Gwen felt no such compunction, however.

"Look who's decided to come back."

Jack would have blamed the sarcasm on the alcohol, but Gwen was pregnant and all too sober. For the moment, he ignored it. "Sit down, Drocina. I read about the space locusts. You deserve a drink or two."

Snapping a jaunty salute at the three UNIT soldiers, he grinned. "Captain Jack Harkness. Good to meet 'ya. Especially you, Captain Magambo, I feel like I know you already."

She looked him up and down, clearly not impressed. "I'm glad your imagination's so vivid, Captain, because that's the only way you're going to get to know me."

Ouch. Someone had been telling tales, and they weren't nice ones. He only smiled all the harder. "Actually, Marissa, I know you pretty well. Of course, it was in a defunct timeline, but I imagine you're much the same. Just wanted to thank you for helping Rose Tyler and Donna Noble go back in time to prevent the Doctor's death. Believe me, Earth's a much better place with him around."

She stared at him, hard, assessing his facial expressions and body language as she considered his outrageous statement. After a few seconds, she smiled. "You're welcome. That must be one hell of a story. If I buy you a drink, will you tell me the rest?"

"Can't," he smiled self-deprecatingly. "I got blown up on a Sontaran ship and ended up a prisoner on Sontar before it was all over. Although, Rose said if I ever saw you, I should buy you a mojito. I understand you have a secret weakness for tropical drinks."

That got a laugh from her. "Yeah, I do. I don't look intimidating sipping one, though."

"I don't think it'll hurt your reputation just this once. Besides, like I said, I owe you."

She gracefully consented, and they spent the rest of the time discussing the space locusts. Magambo admitted to being impressed with Torchwood's handling of the situation, and gave high praise to Ianto for figuring out a way to lure them out of the city without injuring any civilians. Once she had finished her mojito, she thanked Jack and left, her subordinates following close behind. Their absence brought an awkward silence.

"So, I guess we should be getting back to the Hub, yeah?" Gwen didn't know what to say to Jack. She hadn't meant to be quite so cutting when he'd walked in, but she was finding it more and more difficult to control her emotions. And, she wondered if he had any intention of staying at Torchwood now that he was as human as the rest of them.

"In a minute," Jack answered breezily. "Thought the three of us could have a drink. Everything changed so fast I haven't had a chance to talk to you much about the new team."

Drocina could count as well as anyone, and knew without a doubt that she was not one of the three. "I should return to work. I shouldn't let Martha do all the autopsies that have stacked up."

Jack nodded in thanks. One of the things he liked about the young Time Lord was that she could definitely take a hint. And, she was never offended if he asked her to leave. He guessed it had something to do with her strict upbringing. Or perhaps she was simply good at masking her feelings.

"When you're finished with the autopsies, the Doctor and I would like you to take a look at Melissa."

"I'd be honored, Captain."

As the young physician left the pub, Jack leaned back in his chair. "Good job with those space locusts, by the way. Mickey told me they were three feet long."

"They were carnivorous," Ianto remarked flatly. "They ate five poodles."

Jack just stared at him for a moment, and then the two men burst out laughing. At least, Ianto cracked a smile, which for him was as good as a guffaw.

"They could have killed someone!"

Both men turned to Gwen simultaneously. Communicating silently with Jack, Ianto noted, "But they didn't." Then, he was far more direct than usual. "You should have stayed in the Hub. I had enough assistance from UNIT, and Rhys would kill us if something happened to the baby."

Shocked, Gwen opened her mouth to hotly refute his statement, but Jack unexpectedly took her hand. He held her gaze for several seconds, and the intensity of his deep blue eyes captivated her yet again. Her anger at Ianto was forgotten.

"Hey, we're happy for you two. Don't be mad at Ianto; your pregnancy is the worst kept secret in the Hub."

"If you knew I was pregnant, then why'd you leave like that? Before the Daleks, I thought Torchwood was your life, but you just left us, Jack! We thought you were dead! And then you come back only to leave again because you suddenly decide you need a holiday. So you tell me, Jack Harkness, what are we supposed to think?"

Looking at both their faces, he could see that the Welshman was just as hurt as she was. "Look, I'm sorry. I'm back now, and I don't plan on going anywhere for a long time."

Gwen was still livid. "Why did you leave? Don't you think we might need a break? Do we mean nothing to you? Does Torchwood mean nothing to you? At least Tosh and Owen died thinking you gave a shit."

"Gwen."

Ianto thought she'd gone too far, but Jack understood. "It's alright, Yan. You both deserve an explanation."

He took a sip of mineral water trying to order his thoughts and decide what he could tell them. "I've given Torchwood over a hundred years of my life, Gwen. While Yvonne Hartman was tearing a hole in reality, I was trying to rebuild the Cardiff branch into something humanity could be proud of. For the most part, I succeeded. And, yeah, I know I made a lot of mistakes on the way. Hell, I'm sure you can tell me most of them, but we've dealt with whatever the Rift's thrown out and then some. And I plan on spending the rest of my life defending the Earth. But my life's going to be a hell of a lot shorter than I thought. So, don't expect me to live in some dark hole in the Hub like some god damn monk."

Ianto couldn't help the snort, and Jack grinned wryly. "Okay, bad analogy. I've never been anything like a monk." Peering once again at Gwen, he continued earnestly. "The point is, for the first time in a very long time, I've got a life outside Torchwood, and I'm not going to give that up. Melissa needed me, and I took a few days to be with her. You can choose to stay angry, or you can accept it and move on."

It looked like Gwen was about to make some scathing remark, so Ianto quickly interjected. "How is she? At lunch the other day, the Doctor's brother mentioned that she had some disabilities."

"She suffered a significant brain injury while on Gallifrey. She can no longer alter time. In fact, her perception of time is severely limited."

His grave answer drained whatever anger Gwen had continued to harbor against him. "That's horrible, Jack. How does that affect her pregnancy?"

"It makes it a challenge." Growing somber, he drained his glass. "Look, I know things have changed a lot in the last few months. All I'm asking is that you bear with me. We've got a bigger team, and it's going to be easier to have a life outside the Hub. That's a good thing. You can even take an extended maternity leave and work part time when your child's young, Gwen. I wouldn't have been able to say that if it was just the three of us."

"Rhys doesn't want me working for Torchwood now that the baby's coming. I don't know what I'm going to do, Jack."

No wonder she felt betrayed. Again, he took her hand. "You'll figure it out. And, if you leave Torchwood, I hope you'll at least let the kid grow up knowing his Uncle Jack."

"You make it sound so easy," she complained with a teary sniffle.

"That's because it is."

He assured her with a grin and a peck on the cheek before telling her to take the rest of the day off. She accepted his suggestion with alacrity, and the smile on her face was worth it. Telling Ianto that he could catch a ride with Jack, Gwen practically ran out of the pub. She and Rhys needed to talk.

Ianto continued to nurse his pint, studying his boss and former lover. Jack was tanned, but there were new shadows under his eyes, as if he had been worrying constantly in the past week. "For a dead man, you look pretty good. I like the tan, by the way."

Jack smiled. Ianto always knew the right thing to say. "I tan very well, Ianto Jones. It's a shame you're not interested in seeing just how well."

"I'm not making that mistake again, no matter how tempting." Ianto confessed in a flash of honesty.

Jack sat up straighter. "So, it's tempting?"

"With you, it will always be tempting, Jack. I'm going to blame it on your pheromones and leave it at that."

The Captain chuckled. Ianto was showing a surprising amount of maturity. "How's Gwen, really?"

"She's too emotional. But, I didn't know about Rhys. Her mood swings make a little more sense. Typical Gwen, though. She had no idea she was being that obvious about her pregnancy. I switched her to decaf three weeks ago."

"I'll sort Rhys," he replied confidently. "Just give me some time. How's Drocina working out?"

"She's definitely easier to work with than Owen. She lacks self-confidence, but she's learning."

"A Time Lord without an ego? That's refreshing. So, you think she might work out?"

"Do we really need two doctors?"

Jack immediately noticed he'd dodged the question. "Why not?"

Ianto suddenly looked uncomfortable. "Don't we have enough Time Lords?"

"Melissa's incapacitated, and the Doctor's going to be distracted as her pregnancy progresses. So, yeah, I think we need another Time Lord. Got a problem with that?"

"We did fine without Time Lords working for Torchwood before. Why do we need them now?"

"Because," Jack answered very deliberately, "I can't take a bullet the next time things go south without dying permanently. Believe me, you're going to want as many Time Lords as you can get."

"In that case, she's doing fine."

"Good." Pretending that they'd never had the conversation, Jack stood up. "Offers the same for you, Ianto. If you want to take the rest of the day off, you certainly deserve it."

"I do, but so does Drocina, and you just sent her back to work. Think I'll do a little filing in the archives. Donna must have some decent stories about Barcelona."

Jack chuckled as he paid their tab. "She does. Just, whatever you do, don't ask her about the banana scented steam."

Ianto's eyebrows shot up. "You did that on purpose, didn't you?"

"You know me too well, Mr. Jones."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Stand still Emissary."

Sighing, Melissa tried to remain motionless as the light from the large medical scanner ran up and down her body. It tickled as much as it had when Owen had used it on her in the alternate timeline, but she managed well enough. As soon as Drocina finished, she joined her at the computer; she wasn't going to let the healer filter any of the data. It was her body, and she wanted to see just what it looked like from the inside out.

Although she was anxious to see the embryos, Drocina started with her brain first, and Melissa winced. She'd known it was bad, but the scan showed small dead patches in the temporal lobe, as if someone had been overly eager in weeding a garden. It made her stomach churn, although she tried to blame it on her pregnancy.

"I admire your ability to function as well as you do with such limitations, Emissary. The damage is extensive."

It was difficult with most Time Lords to differentiate between sarcasm and sincerity, most of her race having had far too much practice with sarcasm, but Melissa thought she could detect equal parts of both, and maybe just a touch of condescension. She chose a neutral reply. "I do my best."

Perhaps it hadn't been neutral enough, because Drocina flushed. "I meant no disrespect, my Lady."

"I'm sure you didn't," she allowed after a second's pause. Then, eager to see the rest of the scan, she politely asked to proceed.

Her blood volume had increased significantly. Taking her blood pressure, Drocina found it to be low. Since both were the result of her pregnancy, they noted it and moved on.

Knowing that both Jack and the Doctor had fabricated reasons for being very close to the medical bay, Melissa asked the healer to wait before showing the rest.

Raising her voice, she called out, "If you two can behave, you can look with me."

The Doctor approached casually, as if he'd just happened to turn up at the right time, but Jack had no such reservations. "Fantastic!"

Throwing the image on the wall so the three of them could see better, Drocina carefully studied the pictures of the developing embryos. While they were beginning to resemble Time Lords more than tadpoles, they still had a rather alien look to them. Still, to the trained eye of the Time Lord physician, something was definitely wrong.

"Emissary, would you mind lying down so I can capture some real-time footage? This is only a still image. I'd like to observe fetal movement, if you don't mind."

Melissa, who didn't have enough medical training to know that something was wrong, was more than happy to oblige. Lying on the cold metal table, she lifted her shirt so Drocina could apply a more sensitive scanner to her stomach, which acted much like a human ultrasound.

Lying on the table, she couldn't see the look of concern that flashed over the young Time Lord's face, nor could she see the monitor that displayed the video of her uterus. "So, I was right? A boy and a girl?"

"One female, one male," Drocina confirmed distractedly as she zoomed in on the image of the boy. The resolution was much better with this device, and the Doctor and Jack could see that the baby had already developed his fingers as they peered over the healer's head.

As Melissa crowed happily about being right about the sex of the embryos, the Doctor finally noticed what had silenced the young healer. The boy's second heart had failed to develop at all. Although he slammed down his mental shields, it was not before Melissa had a fleeting sense of his apprehension.

"What?" She jerked upright, ignoring the scanner that Drocina held. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, Sweet-" Jack stopped mid sentence as he saw the look on the Doctor's face. He'd been too excited to sense his alarm. Glancing at the physician, he saw that her face mirrored the Doctor's dismay.

"What's wrong?"

The Doctor ignored Jack's question. Grasping his wife's hand, he delivered the news as gently as he could. "Emma, you need to lie down so we can get a better picture of the male's chest cavity."

Her pulse rates shot upwards. "He has a heart defect?"

"She needs to see," he answered gently, not wanting to distress her any more than they had to.

Terrified, she lay back down, closing her eyes as Drocina continued the examination. The Doctor and Jack held her hands as they physician then typed furiously on the computer. After a tense ten minutes, she turned the device off.

"You can sit up now, Emissary."

"How bad is it?"

Drocina couldn't meet her eyes; instead she stared at the ground, answering the question with one of her own. "You do know how rare it is for our species to carry twins, don't you Emissary?"

At Melissa's agreement, the young healer finally looked up. She couldn't keep the anguish out of her expression as she explained what was wrong. "I have read of instances when a defective egg has been released and fertilized in conjunction with a healthy one. I regret that this has occurred. The male fetus has significant physical deformations that will result in gross cognitive deficits. According to the texts I have read on the subject, the prescribed course of treatment is to allow the pregnancy to continue and then to euthanize the offspring at birth."

No one spoke. Although the Doctor and Jack had worried constantly about the threat to Melissa's health, none of them had ever considered that anything could be wrong with the fetuses. Surely, the Bad Wolf wouldn't have been so careless.

The Doctor finally broke the silence. "Tell us the nature of the deformities, please."

Schooling her own voice so she could clinically give them the facts, Drocina pointed to the still image. "The fetus' second heart has not developed. The heart that has developed is situated behind the sternum where his respiratory bypass should be. He has several abnormal growths in his abdominal cavity, and his brain, while still developing, is malformed, split into two distinct lobes. The temporal lobe is also undeveloped. Cognitively, it is likely that the child would only be able to perceive three spatial dimensions; severe memory impairment would affect learning; and he would have a significantly shorter lifespan should he live due to his cardiac and respiratory defects."

Stealing a look at Melissa, the Doctor's lips twitched as he hid his smile of relief. She hadn't even made the attempt, beaming happily. The young healer stared at them as if they'd lost their minds, which would have been funny, except Jack had the same expression on his face.

Almost giddy, Melissa threw her arms around Jack. "One of each, Jack! We're going to have one of each!"

As soon as she said that, he understood, and an overjoyed smile lit up his face.

The Time Lord healer gaped at them, wondering if the Emissary suffered from some sort of acute stress reaction. While the Doctor was eager to let her in on the joke, he wanted to make absolutely sure where her loyalties lay.

"Drocina, how formally were you trained in the healing arts?"

"My training was very formal," she answered nonplussed.

"Did you take the healer's oath?"

Lord Borusa insisted upon it. He believed that the privacy of the patient is sacrosanct."

For once, the Doctor was grateful that Borusa had been so conservative in his beliefs. "And do you believe that as well?"

"I do. I am bound by my oath." Wondering where his questions were going, she asked, "Do you intend to raise the child, even with its defects, Lord Doctor?"

"It's just Doctor, Drocina, and I will be helping to raise this child, although I think Jack's going to end up having more of a say. Right, Captain?"

"Two dads, Doc. We already agreed." Then, carefully picking Melissa up and depositing her to the floor with an enthusiastic kiss, he teased. "Besides, we know who's going to rule the roost, don't we?"

"Just so you know, Jack." She teased right back, beyond pleased.

"Am I missing something here?"

They all regarded the young healer thoughtfully, and then Melissa explained why she was so happy. "One of the fetuses is a Time Lord, the other is human. Those defects you noted aren't defects at all."

"That's not possible," she quietly remarked, suddenly unsure of her competency as a physician. "Is it?"

"Well," the Doctor drawled. "It's highly unlikely."

Drocina turned to Melissa. "You mated with a human?"

Since the question had been asked without judgment, she was as forthcoming as she could be without mentioning the Bad Wolf. "Yes, I love Jack as much as I love the Doctor. The three of us are bonded."

The young woman turned white as a sheet, and the Doctor wondered for a second if she was going to faint, but she quickly recovered her equilibrium. "Such a feat should be impossible, but I won't waste your time by questioning your assertions. Have any one of you noticed psychic complications?"

Melissa's cheeks tinged red. "Only after a concussion, when my shields were very weak."

"And, the human—I mean, Captain Harkness—has been able to participate in all aspects of the bond?"

"Oh, yeah," Jack answered smugly. "Look, as much as I'd like to satisfy your curiosity, we're more concerned about Melissa and the babies' health at the moment. Obviously, you aren't all that familiar with humans, or you wouldn't have made the misdiagnosis you did. Are you knowledgeable enough to care for a human fetus, or should we call in Martha as well?"

"I don't think it would be beneficial to consult with Dr. Jones. While she is a competent physician, her area of expertise is not obstetrics. It will be just as easy for me to consult texts on the subject."

Before Jack could ask another question, she briskly continued. "As for the Emissary, she is doing remarkably well considering the strain of carrying two embryos. She will continue to have to take supplements, and she should increase her caloric intake, but at this point in time, she is in good health."

"And the babies?" Melissa thought they were doing well, but she wanted the opinion of an expert.

Drocina smiled reassuringly. "The female is developing normally. I cannot say if the male is at this time, but if his physical defects are merely human characteristics, then I'd say he is. I will spend the rest of the afternoon studying human fetal development before giving you a definitive answer."

"And you won't mention that one of the babies is human," Jack warned. "We have our own reasons for keeping that secret for now."

"I will mention nothing of the kind," she promised. "I'm part of Torchwood now, even if I hadn't taken an oath."

Jack was pleased that she saw it that way. It made things much less complicated. Taking Melissa's hand, he suggested she tell the rest of the team that she was expecting a boy and a girl before their friends and co-workers decided to engage in clandestine surveillance. The Doctor tried to follow them, but Drocina quietly put a hand on his arm.

"A moment, Doctor, if you don't mind."

"Yes?"

"Is there some sort of human mating custom that I am unaware of? I don't understand why the Emissary would want to become pregnant with your child and the Captain's child at the same time. The dangers are very real, even if she hasn't been adversely affected at this point in time."

He had the inexplicable urge to pat her on the head. Her expression was so earnest. It reminded him of his own reaction when he'd first studied alien cultures—eager and more than a little baffled.

"The Emissary's pregnancy has nothing to do with human mating customs, Drocina. In fact, in this time period, humans do not generally accept a relationship consisting of three or more. I know you are concerned for her since she's your patient, but I'm asking you not to pursue this line of questioning. How and why Emma became pregnant is not relevant at the moment. If we decide at a later date that it is relevant, we will inform you, but right now it is best that you don't know."

"I will not ask again. I apologize for the question, Lord Doctor."

"It's just the Doctor, Drocina, remember? I've always preferred to be less formal than most other Time Lords. I'm afraid in that regard I must be somewhat of a disappointment to the students. Have you heard the Earth saying never meet your heroes?"

"Earth seems to have many useful sayings, Doctor, but I think that one is wrong. Meeting you both has been an honor. I can only feel humbled that you would trust me with your bond mate's life and the life of your children. You do realize that the female will be the first Time Lord born since the war ended? Namara will deliver a week later, but your daughter will have the honor of being the first."

He hadn't thought about it that way, and it stunned him. There was an odd symmetry to it. Athena's death had been the first salvo in the Time War, and now the birth of her sister would emphasize its end.

When he considered the repercussions, however, he grew troubled. Such a happy occasion no doubt would be exploited by the Council. It would be the perfect event to prove to the population that life was getting back to normal. In his haste to conceal the Bad Wolf's role, he hadn't considered the wider ramifications of the pregnancy. Suddenly, the urge to run was real. He didn't want to become some pawn in the Council's schemes.

"Except for you and Brax, we haven't told any other Time Lord of the pregnancy. Perhaps it should stay that way for a while."

The healer turned crimson as she timidly met his eyes. "Lord Doctor, when you announced your bond mate's pregnancy four days ago, I did not know it was your wish to keep it quiet. I informed the Lady Flavia and all of the students, both on Gallifrey and Earth. They are all quite excited."

So much for hiding it a little longer. Since they had announced it quite publically, it wouldn't do to chide her now. "Well, then. Good. That's good, Drocina. Glad to hear it."

Quickly, he thanked her and left. Jack and Melissa were animatedly talking to Martha, Mickey and Gwen, and he decided not to intrude. The fact that both fetuses were healthy could almost be classified as a miracle. It would be a shame for him to dampen that good news with trouble that hadn't even manifested itself yet. He decided to take a little trip to the archive to find Donna instead.

Having taken all the scans she could, Droncina noted them in Melissa's medical chart and then promptly encrypted the entire file. Torchwood's mainframe was remarkable for the twenty-first century, but it was still primitive compared to Time Lord technology. She wasn't quite as naïve as she looked.

Something was amiss, and she didn't want to do anything to inadvertently harm either the Doctor or the Emissary. She could tell that the Doctor had been upset that the pregnancy was so public, and she hated that she'd been the reason. The birth of the girl would be a cause for celebration, and the boy's birth, assuming he was developing normally, would go a long way towards shattering more than a few misconceptions. Didn't they both know how much the students revered them? Considering how generous and kindhearted the Doctor and the Emissary appeared to be in person, she decided they had no idea.


	14. Aliens Among Us

Author's notes - The Torchwood team has a little fun; The Doctor and Jack make an unpleasant discovery; and Jack and Melissa have a frank discussion after enjoying one of their favorite activities. Hope you enjoy the chapter. Thanks to **dwatlaskrhtcm** and **Kassandra J** for reviewing the last chapter. As always, I appreciate knowing what people think about the direction the story's taken.

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><p>The next three days were spent in and out of the Hub as everyone tried to establish a new routine. Jack forced everyone to participate in a few team building exercises, although they definitely had a Torchwood twist. It had gone much better than he'd expected, and at the end, he treated everyone to an afternoon at the firing range.<p>

Predictably, Donna was rubbish at hitting a target, but she didn't mind, laughing every time she missed. Drocina didn't do much better, although she improved significantly with every shot. Mickey was an expert marksman, but Martha beat his score. She didn't look pleased to have such skills, however. Since Jack knew when she'd developed such deadly accuracy, he was more than sympathetic. Ianto had obviously been practicing, but Gwen's skills had deteriorated. She blamed it on her pregnancy, and Jack knew better than to argue.

Gwen's excuse goaded Melissa into proving her wrong, however. Her performance was amazing as usual, but Jack did note that she took far longer to set up her shots. He firmly reminded himself that she wouldn't ever be in a situation where she needed a gun.

After he proved to everyone why he was still the boss, he casually asked the Doctor if he wanted to try. The Time Lord had watched them all take a turn, going so far as to give advice to Donna when it was obvious she needed help, but the Captain never expected him to agree.

Quickly making sure that all of the targets were simple round ones and not pictures of Weevils, he let the Doctor choose his own weapon. For a while, the Time Lord stared down at the futuristic choices, and then he picked up Jack's Webley. He studied the targets for a few seconds, before he inexplicably turned to face the wall. Taking the gun in his right hand, he put it over his shoulder, calmly emptying the chamber. When he was finished, every target had a small hole in the middle of the bull's-eye.

He handed the gun back to Jack, as if he performed such feats all the time. "I really don't like guns," he remarked conversationally. "They have such limited uses."

"They seem to be good enough for cheap parlor tricks," Martha called out.

He grinned. "Exactly, Martha Jones. Although, I'll be the first to admit that sometimes it's fun to show off."

"Geez, Doc, that wasn't showing off; that was rubbing our noses in it. It's a good thing I have a healthy ego, or I might feel inadequate."

"Now, now, Captain. You're many things, but inadequate isn't one of them. In fact, I'd say you're quite skilled."

Melissa sputtered with laughter. There was no mistaking the Doctor's tone of voice.

"Oi! Spaceman! Time and place! I swear Jack is rubbing off on you." As soon as the words came out of Donna's mouth she turned beet red. "I mean, you're starting to pick up Jack's bad habits, not that he was literally . . . . Oh, you know what I mean."

"I think everyone knows what you mean," Ianto stated tonelessly. Then, he made a perfect pause and added wryly, "And, everyone knows how it sounded. But, then, we all know, Jack."

"Hey!" Mickey shot back. "We do not all know the Captain of the Innuendo Squad like that! And, I for one want to keep it that way!"

As everyone guffawed at Mickey's pronouncement, Drocina wasn't sure she understood. "I'm sorry, but is it expected to have sexual intercourse with Captain Harkness because he's our supervisor? That's not an Earth custom I'm familiar with."

Her gullibility had Gwen in tears before she complained loudly of laughing so hard that she needed the loo. Most everyone else found the young woman's question equally amusing, and it was at that point Jack knew the group, no matter how diverse, would work well as a team. Not a bad revelation for three days' work.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

That afternoon, long after he'd given the others the rest of the day off, Jack suggested to the Doctor that they return to the house in Barry. Melissa had asked to go home four times in the last eight hours, and he knew she was tired enough to need some real sleep. The Doctor didn't make a single protest, parking the TARDIS in the corner of what would have been Matthew's room.

They spent the rest of the day taking care of very domestic chores, buying groceries, washing sheets and running the vacuum. Jack cleaned the bathrooms; the Doctor improved the efficiency of the vacuum cleaner; and Melissa fell asleep on the sofa after sorting the mail that had piled up in their absence.

Finding Jack and the Doctor in the office some hours later, she held up a cream colored envelope so they could see. "Her Majesty sent a condolence card. We should probably let her know that you're alive, Jack."

"Alistair's taken care of that, Em," the Doctor answered distractedly. "We have more pressing concerns."

They were still peering intently at the computer, and curious, she went over to take a look. She really wished she hadn't. Filling the screen was a smiling picture of the former UNIT officer who had sexually assaulted her in Colorado; above his his ugly face were the words 'Earth First' in big, bold letters. The shepherd's pie she'd eaten for tea threatened to erupt from her stomach and she felt increasingly lightheaded. Noticing her distress, the Doctor and Jack eased her into the chair.

"We won't let him get anywhere near you," the Doctor vehemently promised as the Captain knelt down beside her.

"He's in jail," she announced stupidly, looking at the two of them in disbelief. "Isn't he supposed to be in jail?"

"He was convicted for insubordination and conduct unbecoming an officer, not sexual assault," the Doctor unwillingly explained. "With all the turmoil within UNIT, it looks like he fell through the cracks and was released early for good behavior. He's the spokesman for the Earth First movement that seems to be sweeping across the globe."

"He's supposed to be in jail," she stammered, sounding more than a little dazed.

"He's out now, Sweetheart, but you don't have to worry. He's in the States, and he'll stay there if I have to get the queen to put him on the restricted list."

Taking a few deep breaths, she managed to quell her stomach and clear her head. "How bad is the website?" she finally asked, guessing correctly that Earth First was most likely the name of some xenophobic, quasi-political organization.

"Bad enough," the Doctor intoned. "Here, take a look for yourself.

She had no desire to look, but she did anyway. A brief glance was all she needed to determine that she didn't want to look at it any more. There were long rants about the rights of man that read like something from Mein Kampf. Worse still, were the pictures of various aliens, no doubt pulled from UNIT files, with lurid descriptions of the threat they posed and a reward for information leading to their capture.

"Well, at least I didn't rate enough to be on the monster list," she said weakly as she finished clicking around the site. "I'm going for a walk. Think I could do with some air."

They both offered to accompany her, but she declined. The neighborhood was a busy one, and she felt more than safe walking its streets, even at night. She wandered around aimlessly as she tried to calm her racing hearts, idly admiring the small gardens that some of the homeowners obviously took pains to maintain.

Inside, the Doctor breathed a sigh of relief. "She didn't notice the external link."

"We were definitely lucky there, Doc."

Disgusted, Jack couldn't help but make a series of clicks with the mouse that finally linked him to another, more dangerous, website. This one was entitled, "ALIENS AMONG US" in large red letters. Underneath the title was a picture of Melissa. From the navy suit she was wearing, it was apparent that it had been taken at the memorial service at Susan and Matthew's high school.

"I'll get Mickey to take this down right away."

"No, Captain. They'd just move to a different site. Tell Mickey to monitor it. I want to know where it's coming from, who is reading it, and whether or not anyone in Cardiff is involved. Forewarned is forearmed."

"Why do you think she's listed and not you? I mean, no offense, but you're both aliens, and you were at the memorial service, too. As for that, why wasn't I listed? You'd think an inability to stay dead would put me in the alien category."

"Don't forget that you've lost that ability, Jack." The Doctor reprimanded him perfunctorily, concentrating on the other pictures posted on the website.

As Jack called Mickey, the Time Lord continued perusing the site, talking to himself. "Whoever created this did their research. The Slitheen are listed as being able to wear human skin. Bit out of date, though; it doesn't mention that they've solved the gas ratio problem. There's a description of perception filters, and . . . ."

Abruptly, he stopped speaking, and Jack turned to see what had caught his attention. "Call you back later, Mick."

Staring at the screen, he swallowed hard. "That's just a myth, a fiction Martha dreamed up to fool the Master."

His reply was brittle. "Someone's put a lot of thought into this one, though. Aspirin's the main ingredient, and the two others wouldn't do a Time Lord very good, either. In combination, it might be enough to do the job even without this 'secret ingredient' they keep nattering on about."

Somberly, Jack asked, "How many students are still on Earth?"

Leaning back in the chair, he considered. "About a third. I was surprised by how many chose to stay, although the ones who did had all lost their parents. I can understand why they might not want to go back to a war ravaged planet they barely remember." Then, gravely, he added, "But they're not pictured with a big sign that reads 'Aliens Among Us', are they?"

Jack didn't answer—he didn't need to. Picking up his keys, he recalled Mickey to the Hub. It was time to test just how good his newest computer expert could be. They needed to know who was behind Earth First. Marshall might have enough hate, but the Captain seriously doubted he had enough brains.

Erasing his internet history, the Doctor put the computer to sleep. He suddenly fancied a walk around the neighborhood very much.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sitting on a chair, taking a much deserved break, Melissa surveyed the boxes that she'd sorted through. By the time he'd died, Owen Harper had owned very little in the way of kitchen paraphernalia. There were no dishes; Jack had told her that he'd smashed every one at some point raging against his unlife. He had done the same with the coffee pot, toaster and kettle. The items in the drawers must have been easier to ignore, and she'd boxed up silverware, kitchen towels and spatulas to send to charity.

Vaguely, she wondered why none of them had thrown out the mundane junk when they'd boxed up his flat, and then she remembered that all of Susan and Matthew's clothes and trinkets were packed away somewhere in the TARDIS. It had been too difficult at the time to throw out a single thing that had belonged to them. Little wonder it was easier for Jack to give her this task than Gwen or Ianto.

She'd discovered that Owen had taken to collecting philosophy books, and she wondered if his hobby had started before or after his death. Reading must have been one of the few safe things for him to do. Although, if this Owen had been anything like hers, she doubted safe had appealed to him all that much. The books would go to charity as well.

As she worked on his DVD collection, she heard footsteps approaching. Curious, she stood up and peered at the entrance to the cavernous Torchwood storage facility. Jack stood in the open doorway, a brown paper sack stained with grease in his hand.

"I brought you a couple of pastries, and some juice. The Doc said chai lattes still aren't agreeing with you."

"Thanks." Opening the bag, she saw a chocolate croissant, blueberry scone and a cheese Danish. Starting on the Danish, she watched him survey the boxes.

"Owen would hate us going through his things."

"I don't know," she answered between bites. "I don't think he was the sort to care. The porn wasn't even hidden. I don't think he kept anything interesting at home, though."

"That's a switch. When Gwen first started working for me, they all brought home toys. The sex spray wasn't the only thing Owen experimented with."

He didn't sound aggravated, just tired, and with a start, she realized how difficult this task was for him. "You don't have to babysit, you know. I'm perfectly capable of going through boxes."

"I'm fine, and you don't need to be lifting heavy boxes right now, Sweetheart."

Her pregnancy was a good enough excuse that she didn't question his presence again. While he was there to help her do the heavy lifting, he was also acting as her bodyguard. So far, Mickey had had little success in tracking down the power behind Earth First, and both he and the Doctor were determined not to leave her alone. They hadn't heard any rumors of the supposed gun that could kill a Time Lord, but they weren't taking any chances.

They spent the next two hours sorting through boxes that contained Owen's clothes—there was nothing remotely alien in there. In fact, Jack suspected that Melissa was correct. Owen had obviously learned his lesson about taking things out of the Hub. Opening up a packing carton that contained haphazardly filed receipts and bills, Jack was about to suggest another break when Melissa gasped and clutched her right hand to her stomach.

His heart hammering in his chest, he ran to her side. "What's wrong?"

Instead of a look of panic on her face, however, there was one of joy and awe. Taking Jack's hand, she placed it against her distended abdomen, willing him to listen. He burst into a huge grin.

"Oh, she is going to be trouble," he crowed proudly as he hugged his wife. "See? We told you, you'd be able to sense the babies."

"I can only sense her, Jack."

His smile dimmed, but not by much. "So he's no telepath. We knew that was a possibility. Guess you're stuck with just an ordinary human boy."

Feeling ridiculously happy, she answered, "If he's anything like you, I'm going to have my hands full."

"Sweetheart, they broke the mold when I was born. There can't be another like me."

His teasing, cocky smugness made her sputter with laughter. "You're so full of it, Jack. Just for that, I hope our son is shy and geeky. It would serve you right."

"Anything but that," he answered in mock horror. Gazing down at her sparkling green eyes, he felt a surge of naked lust.

She felt it too. It made her entire body flush. "What is it with men and pregnant women?"

He ignored her question to slide his hands upwards. The natural barriers within their bond had been crumbling since the start of her pregnancy, and he could sense her flash of arousal. "God, you're beautiful."

"Even pregnant?"

"Especially pregnant."

Her eyes danced with mischief, and her reply was low and throaty. "Enjoy it now, Jack, because I don't plan on being in this state ever again."

"Never ever?" he murmured.

She forgot the answer completely as his hands roved over her body. It was all she could do not to rip his clothes off. As it was, she heard the pop of at least one button. For a brief moment, she remembered where they were, and her eyes flew to the door.

"Locked," he promised distractedly before returning his attention to her. When she responded eagerly, he looked for anything they might make things more comfortable for the two of them. Owen's couch was standing on its side, his bed disassembled. "Emergency program four?" he asked hopefully.

"Only sends the TARDIS to her pilot," she answered breathlessly. Glancing impatiently at some of the larger boxes, she spied one labeled 'linens.' "Try that."

Pulling apart the flaps, he found Owen's duvet. Doubling it, he arranged it on the floor, tossing down a pillow as an afterthought. "Not exactly a—"

Yanking him to his knees, she sat on the now padded floor, not caring about the lack of accommodations. "Please, Jack."

He grinned. She had said please, and it would be rude to refuse such a polite request.

Idly stroking her bare shoulder some time later, he thought her asleep as he wondered about their future. He loved her so much; she was a beautiful, precious gift. And now, it wasn't just the two of them, but the Doctor, and the promise of a family as well. Could he maintain his loyalty to Torchwood after the birth of their children? Defending the Earth came with a high mortality rate. If he wanted to see their son and daughter grow to adulthood, he might have to rethink his priorities. Would it be selfish to turn his back on his friends just because he wanted to live long enough to see his children with children of their own?

Cumbersomely, Melissa flipped over to face Jack. She'd heard every thought in his head as she relaxed in his arms. Her eyes filled with tears, she kissed him tenderly. "I love you, too, you know, even if your idea of beauty is somewhat skewed. I always have. And, I want you to live to see our children grown. I don't care what other people think. You've given enough of your life to Torchwood. I told you when I first found you in Cardiff not to make this your penance. The Doctor loves you just as much as I do, even if you're both too macho to say it. You don't owe him anything anymore, if you ever did."

"I owe my team—"

"Guilt's not a good reason to stay, Jack. I don't see you trying to guilt Gwen into staying."

"She hasn't made up her mind."

"And will you think less of her if she leaves?"

"Of course not. She has a child to think of. She has to do what's best for her family."

"The same applies to you. The Doc and I will support whatever decision you make, but we don't want you staying on as Director out of misplaced guilt."

"You've been talking about me behind my back?"

Rubbing his smooth shaven jaw, she smiled. "Of course we talk about you. You're our favorite topic of conversation. We both love you too much not to talk about you."

"You two are blind, you know."

"So are you. You're just as beautiful on the inside as the out. I wish we could make you believe that."

"Give me a few more mornings like today, and I might. Although, I got to tell you, I wouldn't mind the Doctor being in the picture for a couple of them."

"Neither would I." Turning around again, she nestled against his chest. "He's going to be disappointed he missed this, but I do like having you to myself sometimes."

Since she had mirrored his own thoughts, he didn't bother with a verbal reply. Instead, he rubbed her back as she quickly drifted off to sleep.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Contentedly caressing his dozing wife an hour later, Jack jolted off the floor when someone began to pound on the door. The Webley was in his hand before Melissa could react. Scrambling up, she crouched behind a stack of boxes tall enough to conceal her completely. Even though she could feel the tension emanating from him, she had to stifle a giggle. Naked, holding a gun, Jack looked both sexy and dangerous, as only Jack could do.

The pounding continued, and she peeked around the boxes to watch Jack stand cautiously to one side of the door. "What do you want?" he loudly demanded.

Donna's voice and tone were unmistakable. "What do I want? I'll tell you what I want. I want you to answer your flipping phone, Jack! Sir Alistair called over an hour ago. He's on his way and the Doctor and Drocina are out on assignment. You need to get back to the Hub."

Less than a minute later, he opened the door. He was tucking in his shirt, but it was conspicuously missing two buttons. Even though Melissa was dressed, her long auburn hair was extremely tousled. Donna took one look at them and let it rip.

"Can't you two control yourselves for a couple of hours?" Looking scathingly at Melissa, she asked, "Doesn't being pregnant slow you down at all? What's the Doctor going to think?" Then, seeing the duvet on the floor, she finished emphatically. "And that had better go in the incinerator rather than the charity box."

She couldn't help it; Melissa burst out laughing until there were tears in her eyes. "The Doctor's going to think he missed out, Donna." Then, a look of desperation stole over her features. "Oh, great, now I know what Gwen meant. Excuse me for a minute."

Grinning, Jack watched her leave before trying to charm Donna into a better mood. "Sorry, gorgeous. I should have checked my messages. What's up?"

"We've got problems, Jack. A little over an hour ago, there was an attack on a group of Time Lords in Miami, Florida. Two of the attackers identified themselves as Earth First. UNIT's got jurisdiction since the victims weren't human, but Alistair wants to brief all of us on the threat assessment. The Doctor said he'd be back as quickly as possible, but he and Drocina have their hands full helping the Arcadians round up the Weevils. The High Council offered them temporary sanctuary on Gallifrey's southern continent."

Jack already knew about the Arcadians, so he focused on the more pressing matter. "How many Time Lords and how many were hurt, Donna?"

"Four, but none were hurt. They were in their flat when they were attacked without warning by a group of six. Luckily for them, their attackers didn't understand how much stronger Time Lords are than humans. Two of them ended up in hospital."

"Only two? The kids must have shown a lot of restraint."

"Guess we'll find out when Sir Alistair arrives."

"None of the attackers were armed?"

She knew exactly what he was asking. "No, there's been no report of anything like that gun. Maybe it's a bluff."

"Maybe, but it's troubling that they knew where the kids lived. They've obviously had them under surveillance." Glancing at the open door, he asked, "Can you stay with Melissa while I talk to the Brig?"

"You can't seriously expect to keep her in the dark, can you?"

"She doesn't need the stress, Donna."

Thinking back to the state of her hair, Donna scoffed. "She doesn't seem to be having any problem to me."

"Please, Donna. The Doc and I don't think she can handle this right now. You should have seen her reaction when we told her Marshall was loose."

"Fine, but you better tell the others to keep their mouths shut."

He thanked her hastily as he watched Melissa walk towards them. Her hair was pulled back in a tidy French braid, and she'd somehow managed to get the rumples out of her clothes.

"Sorry. I couldn't wait. Ready to go?"

"Why don't you and Donna stay and finish up. We've gone through most everything except Owen's personal papers, and the Brig just needs me to sign a few papers regarding the Official Secrets Act."

He said it with enough nonchalance that she didn't think anything was amiss. "Perfect, so long as Donna doesn't mind. I hate leaving something half-finished."

"I was looking for a reason to get out of the office," she replied breezily. "Once we're finished, you can take me to lunch at the café you're always talking about."

The Captain thought that was an excellent idea. "Promise to bring me back some dessert."

Magnanimously, she promised to bring back an entire cake to share, and Jack could only hope that they would be finished with business when she returned to the Hub. He needn't have worried. The Brigadier didn't have much to add to Donna's account. In fact, if Jack hadn't known better, he might have thought that the old soldier had made the trip only to reassure himself that the Doctor and Melissa were safe.

When the two women finally arrived at the Hub, the briefing had long since ended. The Brigadier stayed to visit with the pregnant Time Lord and eat some chocolate cheesecake. Before the sweet was gone, the Doctor and Drocina returned, giving a hair-raising account of the Weevil roundup. Everyone was very careful not to mention the attacks around Melissa, and she remained unaware that her kinsmen were now the targets of hate crimes.


	15. Complications

Author's Notes - Thanks to **Kassandra J** for reviewing the last chapter, and thank you to everyone who's reading this story and has put it on alert or favorites. As the Doctor's brother shows his protective side, the reality of carrying twins is about to become apparent. Hope you enjoy.

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><p>Jack frantically searched in the dark for something to use as a weapon as the front door to their house burst open. He relaxed only fractionally as he recognized the intruder.<p>

"Where are they?" Brax demanded, his usually cool façade in shreds, the bottom of his scarlet robes muddy and torn.

He answered begrudgingly as he took a deep breath and attempted to calm down. "Your brother's in Miami and Melissa's sleeping."

"Neither is injured?"

Studying the Doctor's brother, Jack felt a twinge of sympathy. It was obvious he had feared the worst. "Neither was attacked, and the four Time Lords who were are fine. It's not like you to get bad intell, Irving."

The not so subtle dig had its intended effect. The Time Lord stiffened; after a moment, he appeared to be his usual haughty, smug self. "The High Council was told that four Time Lords were physically assaulted, nothing more. I went to the Hub first, but not seeing them, I ran here.

Looking at the state of his robes, Jack wondered how far he'd literally run before remembering to use his TARDIS. Biting back a sarcastic reply, he tried to keep his tone neutral.

"I don't know who's been giving you information, but the kids were attacked in their flat in Miami. The Doctor and I think they'd been under surveillance for some time. He's there now, trying to see if they can identify their attackers."

Nodding, Brax surprised Jack twice in one day, couching his demand in polite phrases. "May I speak to Emma? I promised Flavia some days ago that I would send her best wishes. My bond sister's pregnancy is causing quite a stir with the women of Gallifrey."

Temporarily sidetracked, Jack asked, "She's not the only one pregnant, is she?"

"One of the young ones, a girl named Namara is expecting a boy two weeks later, but there have been no other pregnancies announced."

The answer flabbergasted the Captain. "Why?"

Brax replied disdainfully, unsettled by the question and the person asking it. "When it became apparent that the Daleks were a stronger foe than first believed, procreation became secondary to survival. Now that the hostilities are over, though, my people are hesitant to contemplate pregnancy in the midst of rebuilding. If something doesn't happen soon, we're going to have to rely on the Looms to repopulate."

"I'd call your race sexually repressed, but I know that's a lie. What's the real problem?"

"Most are afraid that the Daleks will return, not that it's any of your business, Agent."

With that biting reply, Jack decided their temporary detente had ended. "So, I'm guessing that the Doctor and the Emissary having twins is going to be a big deal. Might convince others that the future isn't so bleak."

Shrewdly studying Jack, Brax couldn't hold back a smile. "You always were too clever for your own good. Yes, the birth will be a joyful event for all citizens of Gallifrey. It's so important that Chancellor Amathow and a few others are trying to push through an edict revoking the right to live off world so it can be followed with the proper fanfare. And attacks by idiot apes just add fuel to the fire."

He chose his words very carefully. "You and I both know that wouldn't be in Melissa's best interest right now."

He wasn't going to be the one to tell the Doctor's brother that one of the babies was human. And, he was doing all he could not to react to the fact that Brax had intimated that he'd known him prior to their meeting on the Plass. He had no idea if it had been a lie meant to elicit a reaction, or the truth meant to torment him about his lack of memories. Either way, he ignored it.

"I'm not stupid," the man with the sun bleached hair snapped. "Besides, the Doctor's return could very well precipitate a civil war, and no one needs that-yet."

Again, Jack ignored his provocative statement. Instead, he pointed to the door. "Fix that before you leave, would you? And tell Flavia that she's more than welcome to visit. I know she would love to talk to her friend without you censoring her words."

Irving Braxiatel's hands balled into fists. "I've killed men for less, Captain."

Smiling, Jack almost wished he would try. "I don't doubt you have, Irv, but we both know you won't." Self-consciously, he added, "Melissa needs her sleep, and we haven't told her about the attack. It would be better if you came back tomorrow."

His reaction quickly changed from anger to surprise and then to concern. "Is she unwell?"

Intending to tell him acerbically it was none of his business, Jack abruptly changed his mind. As much as he hated it, the Time Lord was the Doctor's brother. With a heavy sigh, he admitted, "We don't think she needs the added stress. The pregnancy is difficult enough. She's never alone, and the threat to her should be minimal."

Having expected hostility, the leader of the Celestial Intervention Agency regarded Jack thoughtfully. "Thank you for sharing that with me, Captain. I shall inform her friends not to mention it. And, I will report to the Council that the attack was nothing more serious than a prank gone wrong. Hopefully, that will keep Amathow's faction from gaining too much influence too quickly."

"Just don't forget to fix the door, Braxiatel." With that, Jack turned around to march back to bed. The man might be family, but that didn't mean he had to like him.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Wincing, Melissa unthinkingly rubbed her stomach. The sharp pains she'd been experiencing lately had only gotten worse, and were finally becoming impossible to ignore. She'd have to ask Drocina about them when she returned to the Hub.

Tosh had died with many more personal effects than Owen, and it was taking Melissa much longer to sort through them. Unlike the Torchwood medic, Toshiko Sato had continued to bring home interesting bits of alien paraphernalia long after Jack had ordered the team to stop. In fact, Melissa had been surprised that Ianto had lost track of so many items until the archivist had informed her that none had been catalogued. In fact, no one could say for certain where Toshiko had acquired so much contraband. Although fiercely loyal to Jack, it seemed the former UNIT prisoner had had a weakness for alien gadgets.

Most were no more than high tech toys. A few found in Tosh's bedroom were classified precisely as toys—very adult toys, but toys nonetheless. Drocina had been most intrigued with the function of a few of them, but Jack had only smirked and ordered them incinerated. Tosh had always been somewhat lonely, and he certainly wasn't in a position to judge.

The day before, Melissa and Donna had sorted through the boxes that had come from her living area. Unlike Owen, she had owned no DVD's or CD's. After finding her IPad, they understood why; she had an extensive digital library of both music and video. She had owned a surprising number of books—the paper kind-although philosophy obviously wasn't her area of interest.

No, Tosh had been a closet romantic, as evidenced by the fourteen book cartons of paranormal romance novels. As Donna had made some barbed and hilarious comments, Melissa had gone through each one, merely for the sake of thoroughness. It wasn't her fault that she was a very fast reader. That night the Doctor and Jack had been subjected to some very interesting role playing—not that they'd minded. In fact, the Doctor had been very glad not to have missed out on that particular game.

After more than a week, the only cartons remaining were ones labeled 'kitchen', and today was Ianto's turn to help with the heavy lifting. The first seven were filled with nothing more threatening than mismatched teacups and several sets of dishes. They'd spent most of the morning unpacking and repacking while Melissa tried to ignore her increasing discomfort.

For his part, Ianto suggested several lengthy breaks during their work. To his trained eye, she was unwell. She kept grimacing and holding her stomach, although she took care to turn away from him. As Melissa rested, he considered calling Jack each time, but she always seemed much better after sitting for a few minutes, so he decided to wait.

"The Doctor should be arriving soon. Would you like to wait to open the boxes of utensils until after lunch?"

Melissa glanced sharply at Ianto, wondering if he had noticed her discomfort, but the archivist was simply waiting patiently for her reply. She told herself to stop being so paranoid. "We might as well get started. It's not like there's anything better to do here, Ianto."

"True, although there's a Costa Coffee two blocks over."

"Unfortunately, lattes still aren't agreeing with me at the moment, but I appreciate the offer. If you want to go, though, I can wait for the Doctor."

"And miss seeing if Tosh had any alien spatulas?" Ianto knew better than to leave her. There'd been another attack four days ago, this time in Melbourne. Jack would likely kill him if he left her in the storage facility alone.

"There is that. Okay, which box first?"

He pointed to one at random, and she opened it with the box cutters. Bending over, the color drained from her face, and she would have fallen if Ianto hadn't grabbed her under her arms. Sitting her in a folding chair, he watched the color slowly return to her cheeks.

"I'll call Jack."

"So he can panic and rush over here? I don't think so. My blood pressure's low, Ianto. I shouldn't have tried bending over the box, especially since my waist doesn't exactly bend these days. Give me a minute and I'll be fine."

Handing her a bottle of water, he couldn't help but be swayed by the confidence in her voice. No doubt she knew her body better than she did. Besides, the Doctor was probably picking up lunch as they spoke.

"At least let me unpack the boxes. You can sit there and tell me if anything's interesting."

Relieved that he wasn't calling Jack, she readily agreed. Still trying to clear the spots from her eyes, she watched Ianto unpack seven spatulas, ten serving spoons, five pairs of chopsticks, a serving fork, four tongs of various shapes and sizes, and a coaster from a local bar. Her vision had finally returned to normal when he pulled out something that looked somewhat like an old fashioned egg timer.

"Ianto don't—"

It was too late. He'd already turned it over. As the pink crystals began to fall to the bottom of the metallic hourglass, the Welshman was enveloped in a red haze. "This can't be good."

Stifling an inappropriate giggle, Melissa hastily reassured him. "It's not that bad. You set off a . . . well, it's a highly specialized perception filter. Until the crystals finish falling, you're going to appear to anyone who sees you as their ideal of physical perfection."

"So you'll see yourself as you wish you could look?"

Blushing, she grinned self-consciously. "Not exactly. I, or anyone else, will see the image of their ideal mate."

"That might have some interesting possibilities. So, tell me, Mrs. Harkness, whom do you see, Jack or the Doctor?"

"What makes you think I don't see them both?"

"You said 'mate,' singular, so I'm assuming you can't see multiple images."

Sometimes Ianto Jones was too smart for his own good. Not exactly knowing why she was confiding in him, she admitted, "Actually, I see someone with both their features merged together. I see Jack's eyes and the Doctor's cheekbones, black, messy hair, a rugged jaw and a smile that is the best of the both of them."

The habitually unperturbed Torchwood agent started. "You really do love them both equally, don't you?"

"What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing, I just thought that you must love the Doctor more. You didn't appear to mind it when Jack pursued me."

Ignoring the fantasy image before her, she answered seriously. "I never saw you as a threat, Ianto, and I was more than willing to share, just like Jack. Besides, he was immortal. I thought he'd have numerous relationships after I died."

"He's not immortal now."

She took some time to study the Welshman as he slowly transfigured back to his normal self. He was wearing jeans and a navy t-shirt instead of his usual suit, and it made him look far younger than his twenty-five years. It was the expression on his face that arrested her attention, however. She'd never seen Ianto Jones look so ambivalent.

"I'd still be willing to share. Are you at all interested?"

The confusion on his face was quickly replaced by poorly suppressed anger. Coldly, he replied. "I'd always be second best, or possibly third. If I had set off this perception filter in front of him, he wouldn't have seen me."

She didn't refute his assertion, although she wondered what exactly Jack would have seen. "He has a very large capacity for love, Ianto. I think you're misjudging him."

"No, I've seen how he looks at you, and how he looks at the Doctor. While I might have learned to be content coming in second to you, I will not be second to the Doctor. Jack's chosen him over me once too often."

So that was it; the young man wouldn't forgive Jack for his pursuit of the Doctor. Well, she had tried, and now at least she understood why he didn't blame her. "I'm sorry."

"Not necessary. I can't really be jealous of someone he's been chasing for almost two hundred years."

It was all too obvious that the archivist was, indeed, jealous, but Melissa didn't challenge him. Ianto began to pull more kitchen items out of the box, but after a few minutes, he realized that she wasn't paying attention. Instead, her face was scrunched up in pain.

Over her protests, he contacted the Doctor, who broke the Captain's previous speed record in his haste to reach them. Whisking Melissa into the SUV, he barked at Ianto to lock up, threatening to leave the archivist if he didn't hurry. Knowing the reason for the Time Lord's short-temperedness, he refused to take offense, hustling silently into the back of the vehicle.

"How long have you been in pain, Em?" the Doctor demanded as he raced through the Cardiff streets. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, however, he regretted them. She looked at him with an expression of confusion and fear, shrugging ineffectively.

"She's been wincing periodically since we arrived this morning." Ianto didn't normally give an accounting of anyone's habits, but knowing her disability, he made an exception. He regretted it immediately. The Doctor's worry changed to focused wrath, and the archivist was suddenly glad he was out of the Time Lord's reach.

"She's been having pains since early this morning and you didn't think to tell anyone?"

His jaw practically snapped with each syllable, but Ianto answered evenly. "She took frequent breaks and seemed to feel better after each one. It was after the lightheadedness that she appeared to experience more discomfort."

The temperature in the car dropped about ten degrees with the Doctor's icy rage. "So, let me make sure I understand you correctly. You ignored an entire morning of her discomfort. You failed to inform Jack, Drocina or I when she felt faint, and you didn't bother to contact me until she was in so much pain she couldn't function. Does that sound about right, Mr. Jones?"

Ianto knew better than to answer. No matter what he said, it would be taken the wrong way. Besides, he was guilty of what the Doctor had accused; it just hadn't seemed so ominous at the time.

Not so surprisingly, Melissa jumped to his defense. "It wasn't his fault, Doc. I didn't want anyone making a fuss. I was hoping it would go away. And, our daughter's happy. I don't think this is anything to worry about."

She could see the muscles in his jaw clench, and his lips barely moved as he ground out a reply. "That might be the most idiotic thing I've ever heard come from your mouth, Emma. You're not an ostrich, and you can't just stick your head in the sand hoping the bad things will go away! You can't sense our son. What if you're experiencing early labor or the placenta has torn? What were you planning to do? Hope the pain would go away until you bled to death?"

Looking out the window, she cried silently as the SUV sped towards the Plass. He was right; she'd been completely idiotic. If anything happened; it would be her own fault.

Drocina was waiting for them inside the car park. Putting her arm around Melissa's shoulder, she calmly led her into the Hub, quietly listening to her symptoms as they walked to the medical bay.

As the pregnant Time Lord described the intermittent pain to her stomach, Drocina couldn't help but notice that she was crying. Nor could she fail to notice that the Doctor radiated fear and anger to such a degree that even Captain Harkness was keeping his distance. While she could understand the Doctor's behavior, her patient didn't need any more stress. Nervously, she tried to diffuse the deteriorating situation.

"I think you're fine, Emissary. Your uterus has been expanding so quickly that I believe you are feeling your abdominal muscles tear rather than stretch. If that is the case, it can be quite painful. We'll do a full round of tests to make sure."

The Doctor forcefully interjected. "Ianto told me she almost fainted."

"After bending over and straightening quickly, Doctor. It was most likely due to her low blood pressure, but be assured that I will check that as well. Perhaps you would like to wait in the conference room?"

It was as close to a dismissal as she dared, but the Doctor didn't feel the need to regard it as such. Inwardly sighing, Drocina ignored his presence, handing Melissa a specimen bottle. "Think you can fill that for me?"

Nodding, Melissa marched to the loo, keeping her head down so she wouldn't have to see the well meaning stares of her fellow Torchwood teammates. During her absence, the Doctor pestered Drocina to the point that she motioned for Jack to intervene. The Captain had almost managed to calm the Doctor when Melissa reappeared, her face ashen and her eyes wide with fear.

For once, Drocina acted every inch a healer and a Time Lord, loudly ordering everyone but her patient away, including the Doctor and Jack. After several minutes of well meaning and very awkward assurances by Mickey, Ianto, Donna, Gwen and Martha that everything would be alright, they retreated to the privacy of Jack's office.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Hunched over in a chair across from Jack's desk, the Doctor rested his face in his hands. Finally, he looked up. "How bad do you think it is?"

"You're asking me? How the hell should I know, Doc? I mean, I could tell she was frightened, but we aren't bonded to the babies, are we? Would we know if something's wrong?"

"No," he admitted resignedly. "We wouldn't notice anything until it impacted her health." Standing up, he started pacing like a caged tiger around the room. "I acted horribly towards her, Jack. I practically accused her of putting our son's life in jeopardy by ignoring her symptoms. How could I have said something so incredibly stupid, Captain? What if something happens? She'll believe I blame her. She can't think that. She just can't."

Practically shouting, Jack banged his fist on his desk. "None of this is her fault, Doc! It's the Bad Wolf's! As much as I want to be a father again, there are times when I wish she had terminated. Every time I close my eyes, I see her dying as she gives birth. I don't want to have to trade her life for theirs."

Sagging, the Doctor sat glumly in the chair. "Listen to us. We have Emma and our children practically in their graves. It's a good thing she can't hear what we're saying right now, or she'd really let us have it."

"Yes, she would." After a few minutes, though, Jack confessed quietly. "It scares me to see her scared."

"You're not the only one. She's an amazingly strong woman. How did we get so lucky?"

He snorted. "Don't look at me. I'm just the johnny-come-lately. I still half-expect her to wake up one morning and realize she's made a terrible mistake."

"Jack." He drawled out the Captain's name, making it a gentle reproof.

"I know, unconditional love. You gotta admit, Doc, the concept can be hard to accept."

"Trust me, I know. When she forgave me, I could hardly believe it."

Once again, they lapsed into silence, each man pondering his own private fears. Eventually, the Doctor resumed his pacing, but Jack didn't attempt to stop him. To the casual observer, he was reading official reports, but he eyes weren't focused on the page and the pen in his hand made idle doodles across the paper.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Fifty minutes later, Drocina walked into Jack's office without knocking. Both men watched apprehensively for any sign of what she was about to say. They were completely flabbergasted when she folded her arms across her chest to ruthlessly berate the Doctor.

"You're very lucky that this was a minor complication, Lord Doctor. What you told her was cruel and unjustly harsh, and if she had been suffering from a torn placenta, those might have been the last words you ever had the opportunity to say to her. Choose them with more care next time."

Standing stock still, the Time Lord swallowed thickly. "Next time, Drocina?"

The usually timid healer nodded slowly, hoping the tremor in her hands was unnoticeable. Berating the Doctor was proving to be extremely difficult for her. "Her discomfort was caused by nothing more than tearing of the abdominal muscles. Painful, but ultimately benign. However, her lab work came back with some troubling findings. She's again anemic, and her blood sugar levels are erratic. After the scan, it was also blatantly obvious that she's not gaining enough weight. Fetal growth is beginning to occur at the expense of her health. She'll need closer monitoring and an increase in her caloric intake if we are to reverse the trend. It appears the daily supplements alone are no longer effective."

"Why?" Jack asked.

Uncharacteristically, the young woman snapped at her boss. "Because a Time Lord's body has a difficult time carrying one fetus, much less two. You might have considered that before the three of you decided to try your hand at cross-species mating. And, as for that, I'm banning sex of any sort for the duration of the pregnancy."

In any other situation Jack would have laughed. The young Time Lord reminded him of a prim, elderly nun the way she spoke so distastefully of sex. But, her warnings sounded ominous. "Are you saying she should be on bed rest?"

Drocina considered that option. "Not at this time. With the damage to her temporal lobe, I don't believe she would tolerate bed rest for such a long period. She may continue working on the project you have given her, with the caveat that she not be alone."

"Can we see her?"

Drocina's features softened. "Of course. She's anxious to see you both. I sent her down to the archives with Donna, and Ianto is making her a chocolate milkshake. I told her I would like to speak to you in private."

Briskly, she continued. "She'll need to stay home until I can devise a new supplement for her to take. Try to keep her eating and encourage her to stay positive. I'm confident that I can come up with something effective in less than a week."

Ecstatic with relief, Jack jumped up and wrapped his arms around the healer. "Fantastic! You definitely deserve a pay raise, Drocina."

Embarrassed by his exuberance, she nonetheless smiled as he let her go. "You can increase my salary after she's safely delivered, Captain Harkness."

Belatedly, she remembered another item she needed to discuss. "Oh, I almost forgot. The male fetus, while perfectly healthy, does seem to be developing at a slower rate than the female. I need your permission to check the archive to see what we might have on hand to manufacture an artificial womb for the child." When both men stared at her without commenting, she added, "Or, I can request that one be sent from Gallifrey. I'm sure they would have the proper equipment."

The Doctor finally spoke up. "That's not necessary, Drocina. If the archive doesn't have what you need, I'm sure we can find it in the TARDIS."

"Very well, Lord Doctor. If you'll excuse me, I'd like to finish annotating the Emissary's chart."

Before she could escape out the door, the Time Lord called out. "Wait, Drocina. Have you told her about the boy's slower growth rate?"

"I leave that to the two of you. In my medical opinion, it would do no good to tell her at this point as she cannot understand when she is due to give birth for either child. The human's placenta is not being unduly crowded, and I foresee no complications bar having to incubate him for four to six weeks after birth. He still scans as a healthy example of the species." After that, she managed to slip out before they could ask another question.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The Doctor and Jack walked to the archive as quickly as dignity would allow. Melissa was sitting at her old desk, drinking a large milkshake and happily talking to Donna about the latest Eurovision sensation. As soon as she spied the Doctor, however, her smiled slipped from her face.

"I think that's your ride home, Spacegirl." Donna could feel her friend's uneasiness, but didn't want to get in the middle of a row if she could help it.

"Looks like it. Tell Ianto thanks for the milkshake."

Standing up, she glanced at the Doctor. He didn't appear to be angry anymore, but considering how stupid she'd been, she was expecting him to give her a long lecture on the way home. Plastering on a fake smile, she didn't start her apologies until she was out of the Hub and away from potential eavesdroppers.

"I'm sorry, Doc. I know I was stupid. I shouldn't have ignored the pain, but I didn't think it was anything. I could have killed our baby, and I don't expect you to forgive me, but I promise I'll be a better mother."

Jack had to bite his tongue to keep from butting in. Melissa obviously had taken what the Doctor had said to heart. Far from being angry at him, she felt that he was justified in his anger towards her. He had the insane desire to scream at them both.

The Doctor, for his part, was mortified that she could think such a thing. "Come here, Emma." Gently, he took her in his arms, pouring his apology into their bond as he solemnly promised not take his anxiety out on her again. "You have been a wonderful mother, to all your children. You are an amazing mother now, and you're going to be an absolutely brilliant mother when the twins are born. I could never, ever think anything else. I should be begging your forgiveness, you know. My fears ran away with my mouth."

"You're not mad?"

Bending down, he cupped her cheek. "I told you before I even knew who you were that I couldn't be angry with you. I meant it then and I mean it now. I'm not even mildly put out. I'm terrified that something is going to happen to you, Em—to you, not the children you carry inside you. I don't think I could survive losing you again."

"You're really not mad?"

"I said so, didn't I?" Deciding that a kiss didn't come close to sex, he kissed her tenderly on the lips before letting her go.

Jack had his arms around her before she could take a step backwards. "We're both relieved you're alright, Sweetheart. We were scared."

"I was scared, too." she confessed, her head resting against his chest.

Leading her to the car, Jack did his best to tease her into a good mood. He was somewhat successful, and by the time they'd exited the car park, the three of them were vigorously discussing what they should pick up for lunch before going home.

Both men were completely focused on keeping her spirits up, and therefore could be excused for not noticing the university student sitting across the street who wrote down their time of departure in a small memo pad. As soon as they had passed from her sight, she made a report to her superior, who dispatched a team to follow Jack's Jaguar through the streets of Cardiff. By the end of the afternoon, the group would know the home address of the Director of Torchwood III and his two alien partners.


	16. Bad Luck

Author's Notes - I know I've been updating regularly, but three chapters a week is just too much with everything that's going on in real life at the moment. So, I can't promise you a new chapter on Monday, Wednesday and Friday anymore, but I will promise to update as quickly as possible.

This chapter proves just how dangerous Torchwood can be. Thanks to **dwatlaskrhtcm** for reviewing the last chapter. I'm glad that you enjoyed it.

* * *

><p>"If you feel unwell at all, Emma, please tell Martha. And, don't even try to do any lifting. All you have to do is tell Martha whether or not something is interesting or dangerous. You'll call us if it's dangerous, won't you?"<p>

"Jack, make him stop. He's driving me crazy."

"You are being overbearing, Doc. Melissa's not going to do anything stupid like toting boxes around and I doubt Tosh had anything truly dangerous." Pausing for a theatrical second, he grinned. "Besides, it's not like her arms are long enough to hold a box in front of her right now."

"Jack! That's not nice!"

Smirking, he stroked her ever-expanding stomach. She'd been sidelined for a long two weeks as Drocina had struggled to find a balance of chemicals and nutritional supplements that made her pregnancy easier to bear. Finally, she'd been given permission to resume her limited duties at Torchwood, and was overeager to finish going through Tosh's possessions.

"I think it's fantastic. In sixteen weeks, our daughter's going to be smiling and cooing and generally charming the socks off everyone she meets."

"What? You don't think our son's going to be cute too?"

Hastily covering his omission, he assured her that their son would be both handsome and delightful. Following Drocina's advice, they still hadn't told her about the boy's eventual need for an artificial womb. It was becoming difficult to remember what they'd kept from her, and he hoped she wouldn't find it out all at once.

Mollified by his banter, she finally asked for a clarification of something that didn't make sense. "Is sixteen weeks soon, Jack?"

"That depends on your definition of soon, Em."

Pouting, she childishly stuck her tongue out at the Doctor. "I'll take that as a no."

Jogging into the storage space, Martha apologized for her tardiness before looking around. "Wow, Tosh really liked to cook."

Putting his hands on his hips, Jack surveyed the remaining boxes. "Tosh liked the idea of cooking, Martha. I think she bought every kitchen gadget known to man. Unfortunately, her work didn't allow her the luxury of doing much cooking."

"Tell me about it," the medic agreed. "Mickey and I eat take away about five nights a week."

"You and Mr. Mickey still enjoying each other's company, then?"

It was all Martha could do not to roll her eyes at the Doctor. He knew perfectly well that she and Mickey were practically living together. While she visited her flat often enough to fool her mother into thinking that she was concentrating solely on her work, she spent most of her free time at Mickey's place.

"You know very well that we are, Doctor. Just don't tell my mum yet. We're having a good time. I don't want her putting pressure on me to take it too seriously."

"I think the lady doth protest too much, Doc."

Melissa playfully poked Jack in the chest. "Stop teasing her, Jack, or I'll lose my assistant, and I'm not leaving here until we've finished going through Tosh's things."

Months ago, Martha might have bristled at the title of assistant, especially coming out of Melissa' mouth, but today she simply smiled. Besides, she was glad for the change of topic. She wasn't ready to analyze her relationship with Mickey Smith quite so soon.

"In that case, we should get started, unless you two would rather play assistant?"

"As riveting as that sounds, I've got an appointment at Flat Holm and the Doctor is meeting with a couple of Time Lords from Normandy."

"Really?" Melissa piped up. "That sounds like fun. Why can't I meet them?"

"They want to see the storming of the beaches firsthand, Emma. Since we don't have a TARDIS to spare at the moment, all I can tell them is no, which I attempted to do by phone. However, they were rather insistent, so I consented to meeting them face to face." Suddenly looking embarrassed, he added, "I, uh, think they wanted an excuse to meet me."

There had been no such request. The seven Time Lords currently residing in France were meeting with the Doctor to discuss the suspicious fire that had gutted the cottage two of them had been renting in Normandy. With their permission, the Doctor was going to sift through their memories to see if they might have overlooked a clue as to the arsonists' identities. In the last two weeks, the attacks on Time Lords had increased in frequency and severity, although no one had been badly injured—yet.

Standing on tiptoe, she gave him a quick kiss. "Be nice if they ask for your autograph. And be glad you aren't pregnant. The last student I ran into put her hand on my stomach without asking."

Martha made light of Melissa's experience, not noticing the troubled look on the Doctor's face. "By the time you deliver, I imagine more than a dozen people will have done the same thing. I don't know what it is with pregnancy, but all my cousins who've had babies complained about it more than once."

Ignoring Martha, the Doctor demanded, "Did she say anything? Look at you funny?"

"I really don't think she knew how it might come across, Doc. She was genuinely curious. Most of them have never seen a pregnancy."

Jack took in both his bond mates' expressions. "Okay, what am I missing here?"

The Doctor explained. "It's a taboo to touch the stomach of a pregnant Time Lord unless you're close family, Jack. It's considered bad taste and bad luck to attempt to read the timelines of an individual who hasn't been born. As soon as the child is delivered, a seer determines if his or her name is to be hidden, but that's only done after birth."

"Dytra's no seer, Doc, and she didn't mean any harm. I explained the proper behavior to her, but I do think someone needs to talk to the students about the things Borusa neglected."

"I agree. At some point they're going to have to function in Time Lord society, and they can't make those types of mistakes on Gallifrey. But, for now, I have to disappoint seven youngsters and hope they take it well."

"Youngsters?" Martha scoffed.

"Well, they're certainly youngsters to me. Most of them are close to your age, which makes them practically infants in my book."

"Hey, Mister! Don't think you can get away with that with me."

Trying to hide his growing impatience with a smile, Jack led the Doctor to the door. If they didn't hurry, Ianto just might leave him waiting at the dock, and he didn't want to make the trip to Flat Holm by himself.

"You did walk right into that one, Martha. Never challenge the Doctor on his age. I have it from a very good source that he's lied about it for centuries. He's probably older than dirt by now."

"Oi, Emma! No fair telling tales, even if it is to the Captain."

"What?" she asked in mock innocence. "I can't even understand what you're talking about. Don't look at me."

She really couldn't understand the age question with her impairment beyond young and old, infant and child, adolescent and adult. But, she remembered clearly the conversation with Jack when she could. He'd been chuffed to find out the Doctor was older than he'd said. He thought it made him more human.

The Doctor's smile slipped a little, even though he knew she was making light of her disability. He hadn't meant to bring that subject up. To make up for it, he handed her a blatant compliment, saying in an innuendo laden voice, "But I like looking at you."

Jack ruefully added. "Yeah, well, look's all we can do right now, Doc. I don't know about you, but I've got to do something soon just to relieve the tension."

"Get out, the both of you. That definitely comes under the TMI category, and we need to get to work." Martha's command was softened with a smile, but the Doctor and Jack nevertheless took their cue to leave.

As soon as they were out the door, she smiled at Melissa. "I thought we'd never get rid of them."

"They don't like leaving me."

She answered more seriously than she'd intended, and Martha didn't know how to respond. After an awkward silence, she briskly suggested that they get started.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

There were thirty boxes remaining marked 'kitchen', although it appeared that whoever had packed the cartons had thrown much of the contents of Tosh's home office into the same boxes. No doubt Jack, Ianto or Gwen had been too grief stricken and rushed to care about proper labels. Beginning with the one closest to her, Martha began to pull out paper clips, yellowed newspaper clippings, a ball of rubber bands, half-used pads of paper, leaky pens and broken pencils. Most of that went into the trash.

The next three boxes were more interesting, although they contained nothing out of the ordinary. Both women agreed to save the flash drives and old computer discs to give to Mickey. Torchwood's resident computer expert would be given a crack at the encrypted files before the storage devices were simply destroyed.

After a fifteen minute break, Martha started on a box that was actually filled with kitchen gadgets. Melissa paid closer attention to this one, wary of alien artifacts that might mimic ordinary utensils. They found nothing of the kind; although Martha decided to keep the potato masher and a set of steak knives for herself.

For the next two hours, the two women gossiped as they went through Tosh's things. While they were never going to be best friends, Martha and Melissa had developed an easy camaraderie over the past few months. They kept the conversation superficial, since neither wanted to revisit the events surrounding Melissa's reemergence as a Time Lord. But, the more they talked, the more they discovered that they had common interests and opinions.

As Martha pulled a vegetable peeler out of a box, she decided to call a lunch break as soon as the carton was empty. Melissa was beginning to look tired, and there was no sense in pushing to finish a task that obviously could wait. After all, these things had been in storage for over a year. They could certainly stay there another few days.

"Well, this has got to be alien, although I have no idea what it does. Maybe it's an outer space flask?"

Martha held out a silver metallic cylinder that in the dim light might have been mistaken for a vacuum flask, although it was seamless. Melissa's reaction to it was instinctive. Grabbing it from Martha's hand, she threw it away from them with all the force she could muster.

"RUN!"

Propelling Martha towards the door, Melissa was a few steps behind her when the explosion occurred. As it ripped through her, she had the strength to let loose a desperate psychic scream before the blackness overtook her.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Jack?"

Still fighting for awareness, she felt a warm hand grip hers. "I'm here."

It was an effort to open her eyes. When she finally managed it, she realized she was in a hospital room. It couldn't be anything else; the walls were too white. Still groggy, she whispered, "What happened?"

He sat rigidly straight as he told her what had happened. "There was an explosion. From what Martha described, it was a Sontaran hyperbaric grenade. You managed to push her through the door to safety, but you were caught on the outer edges. I'm sorry."

Something about his explanation bothered her, something about the explosive device, but she couldn't quite remember. Then, without warning, she was shivering, and Jack's explanation flew out of her mind. "I'm cold."

"Blood loss and shock. I'm sure you'll feel that way for a while."

When she finally comprehended what he had said, her hands slid apprehensively to her stomach. It was flaccid and flabby, and she could now feel a painful ache inside her. Imploring him, she begged for the evidence to be false. "No, Jack, no. Please tell me they're alright."

His grief ravaged face told her the horrible truth, and she curled onto her side, hugging her arms around her. Eventually, she managed to form coherent thoughts, and she asked for the Doctor.

When he answered, Jack couldn't meet her eyes, speaking instead to the opposite wall. "He's gone, Emissary. He couldn't handle the children's deaths. He's lost so much, and really, all he's ever been good for is running." Turning back to her, he suddenly lashed out. "You really didn't expect him to stay after you killed our children, did you?"

She shrunk back as if she'd been slapped. "I didn't mean to, Jack! You have to believe me! Martha picked up the Da—" Pain pierced her head, as if someone had pounded a railroad spike into her skull. She suddenly couldn't think.

"My head. It hurts. Help me, please!"

Reaching out to her husband, she watched in disbelief as he abruptly stood to leave. Disgust filled his eyes. "I can't take this. I thought I could pretend for your sake, but I can't. All you've ever cared about is yourself. If you hadn't insisted that we find you something to do at Torchwood, my son would still be alive. I've had enough drama to last several lifetimes, and it all revolves around you. Well, sorry, Sweetheart, I can't do this anymore. I'm going back to Ianto, if he'll have me back. I must have been mad to have thought I could have ever loved a Time Lord."

She couldn't believe her ears. In the midst of the agonizing pain in her skull, she watched Jack Harkness stride out the door of their house without so much as a glance backwards. Sitting forlornly on the sofa in the den, she studied the pictures on the bookshelves. In every one, the image of her dead children stared at her, their disappointed faces accusing her of every motherly failing she could imagine.

Utterly alone, Melissa pulled a pillow against her face and began to scream.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

As Ianto and Jack were visiting with the patients at Flat Holm, the Captain abruptly clutched his head in agony. For a moment, he thought that his brain might explode through his ears, and then just as quickly, the sensation was gone. Visibly shaken, he lurched from his seat, his need to find Melissa all consuming. He would have fallen over, however, if Ianto hadn't been right beside him, supporting his weight as the room spun crazily.

"Jack?"

In the midst of his disorientation, his answer was barely coherent. "Something's wrong. She screamed . . . my head." Staggering towards the door, the blood drained from his face. "I can't . . . can't feel her at all!"

Ianto tried to make sense of his boss' sudden distress. "Who can't you feel, Jack? Are you in contact with an alien we can't see?

Jack didn't answer; he was solely focused on getting back to the boat. Staggering away, he had almost made it to the door when the head nurse, a muscled man who was used to subduing the more troubled patients on the island, injected him with a fast acting sedative. The Captain crumpled soundlessly to the floor.

Taking charge, Ianto motioned to three orderlies hovering nearby. "Get him to a cell, just in case." As he watched them drag Jack away, he attempted to contact the Hub, but there was no answer. Cursing, he raced to the boat.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Mickey's offered to pick up lunch. Any takers?" Donna smiled warmly at the eight Time Lords seated around the conference table.

"So long as it's not pizza, Donna."

"What's wrong with pizza, Lord Doctor?"

Smiling patiently at the thin young man wearing a powder blue shirt, the Doctor good naturedly corrected him for the seventh time in the last two hours. "It's just, the Doctor, Jez, and there's nothing wrong with pizza. It's a wonderfully diverse food. It's the frequency it's offered as a meal in the Hub that I object to. Did you study the history of pizza? It's fascinating really, almost every culture—"

Donna interrupted before her friend could start one of his long rambles. "I'll tell Mickey that's a yes, and to come up with something besides pizza. Maybe he can just pick up some sandwiches. Any vegetarians in the group?"

When none of the young Time Lords raised their hands, she asked them a few questions about what beverages they preferred and then headed to the work stations to report back to Mickey.

She greeted him with a cheery, "Yes to lunch, no to pizza. I have to admit, I'm with the Doctor on that one. What is it about Torchwood and pizza? Does Ianto not know how to order anything else?"

"Hadn't thought about it," Mickey admitted distractedly. He still couldn't determine the location of the IP address for Earth First's site, which meant that it was being run by someone much smarter than most of its members. Wearily rubbing his eyes, he temporarily abandoned the problem.

"So, what's it going to be if it's not pizza, then?"

"I thought you could pick up some sandwiches from that café Jack and Melissa like so much. Might as well pick up a couple of cheesecakes while you're at it."

"That's all the way on the other side of town." Mickey complained half-heartedly, knowing that if Donna had already made up her mind, then it really did not good to argue.

"You need a break," she replied bluntly. "You've been staring at that computer all morning. Besides, by the time you get back, Martha will have decided that Melissa's had enough and you and the missus can have a nice lunch together."

"Don't let Martha hear you call her that, Donna. The last thing she wants right now is a serious relationship."

"I wouldn't bet on that, Mickey the Genius, although I think you're right not to push things. Give her a year or so to get used to the idea."

"Martha's definitely worth the wait," he responded sincerely. She's got to be the strongest woman I've ever met."

"You don't have to tell me." Punching him lightly on the arm, she said, "Now go get lunch, or I'm going to have eight hungry Time Lords on my hands and nothing to give them but crumbled Jammy Dodgers."

"Yes, Boss."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

An hour later, Mickey Smith cheerfully walked into the Hub laden with sacks filled with food. As soon as he passed the cog wheel door, Ianto had a gun pointed at his face, although he dropped it after seeing Mickey's look of surprise.

"When did you leave?"

"A little before eleven, why?"

"Because at eleven-twenty, Jack had some sort of fit at Flat Holm, and when I tried contacting the Hub, there was no answer. I got here about ten minutes ago. The Doctor, Donna, Drocina, the Time Lords-they're all unconscious, Mickey."

Dropping the bags, Mickey pulled out his mobile and worriedly called Martha. "No answer." Then, he tried Melissa. "Her either. Looks like you and me are the only ones unaffected. You got any idea what's wrong with them?"

"No, they're unconscious, but the scanner can't give me a reason. I don't know much about Time Lords, but Donna's vitals are fine."

"Okay," Mickey answered, thinking quickly. "You go to the storage facility and see if you can find Martha and Melissa. I'll check for Rift activity and call in UNIT. I think we're going to need backup."

"It sounded like Jack was in contact with some sort of alien entity. Before we sedated him, he said he couldn't feel 'her' anymore."

"Great," the Torchwood computer expert said sarcastically. "That narrows it down. At least we can rule out Earth First. Why couldn't it have been some farty Slitheen, though? I'll ask UNIT what they have in their files after I check ours."

Halfway out the door, Ianto didn't waste time with a reply.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Keeping his comm. open so Mickey could listen in, Ianto pulled up to the small Torchwood warehouse. Grabbing his gun, he raced to Martha's side. She was lying unmoving just outside the door, but there wasn't a mark on her. As he checked her with the medical scanner, she began to stir.

"My head."

Carefully, Ianto helped her to sit. "That's a familiar complaint today. Do you have any idea what happened?"

When the pounding in her head had dropped to a bearable level, she peered guiltily at the warehouse's open door. "I picked up something. I don't know what it was, but Melissa snatched it out of my hand and threw it at the far wall. She yelled 'run' and pushed me towards the door. I had just cleared it when there was some sort of explosion."

Looking apprehensively at Ianto, she asked, "She didn't make it out, did she?"

He took a long look at the open door. The storage area was dark and it was impossible to see more than a foot inside. "No, I don't think she did." Martha sagged after that, and it was all too apparent that she was in no condition to assist in the search of the warehouse.

Tapping his comm., he asked, "Did you get that, Mickey?"

"Yeah," he answered heavily. "And, I'm hearing reports about four aliens with double hearts suddenly collapsing at the university around eleven-fifteen. They were taken to hospital and UNIT's been informed. Whatever went off, I think it might have had a psychic component that only impacted Time Lords."

Grabbing a bottle of water from the SUV, Ianto helped Martha to drink. "What about Donna, Jack and Martha?"

"Donna's mind is pretty much a Time Lord's after that surgery to fix her memories. And, Martha was really close to the explosion. As for Jack, I can't say, but it can't be a coincidence that he was affected at the same time."

Mickey's theory fit too many of the facts to discount. In fact, Ianto thought it fit all the facts. Jack had been raving about not being able to feel 'her', and the Welshman had a horrible suspicion that the 'her' had been Melissa. He knew from experience with various aliens that his one-time lover was at least somewhat telepathic.

"Contact Flat Holm and have him brought here. Knowing Jack, he'll be throwing off the sedative any minute. Then, call PC Andy Davidson and have him take Martha back to the Hub. He's worked with us before, and knows not to ask too many questions. Call Gwen and see if she can make it in after her appointment with the midwife. I'm going to check out the warehouse."

There was a long pause before Mickey replied. "You think it's safe to go in?"

"Doubtful," he answered grimly.

Mickey didn't try to talk him out of it. If he had been there, he would have done the exact same thing. "Good luck."

"This is Torchwood. Our luck's never good." Taking a deep breath, Ianto entered the storage facility.

Expecting the worst, he was momentarily surprised at how normal everything seemed. Although the electricity was off, there wasn't a box out of place. The explosion had not been a physical one, which only added weight to Mickey's hypothesis. Shining a torch on the ground in front of him, Ianto found Melissa about seven feet from the open doorway.

"Shit."

Curled up on her side, she looked to be sleeping, except for the fact that she was mouth was open in a silent scream, her eyes were wild but unseeing. Hesitantly, Ianto touched her neck, but it had no effect. Swiftly, he pulled out the medical scanner he had taken from the Hub.

Her readings were nowhere near those of the other Time Lords, which in her state couldn't be a good sign. Her hearts were galloping at two hundred twenty beats per minute. Her temperature was elevated, and the electrical activity in her brain was off the scale. The only good thing the scanner recorded was the presence of extra heartbeats, although Ianto feared for the fetuses' safety when the scanner could only pick up three.

"I found her, Mickey. She's alive, but I don't know for how long. There's no sign of physical trauma, but her hearts are racing and she's got a slight fever. Something's happening to her brain, but even the scanner can't tell me what. And, I'm only registering three fetal heartbeats."

"You think it's safe to move her?"

"No, but I don't know if it's safe to keep her here. Damn, we need Jack."

"He's on his way, although he's still half out of it. I don't know how much good he'll be. I'm going to try to call in some help."

Stifling a comment that would have only spotlighted his frustration, Ianto walked outside to check on Martha. She was still shaken up and in obvious need of rest and some massive painkillers. He waited with her for the ten minutes it took Andy to arrive.

"She looks the worse for wear." PC Andy Davison's comment was softened by the compassion in his voice. He'd had enough experience with Torchwood to know they took care of things no PC could even imagine. And, from a few long, drunken evenings at various pubs with Gwen, he'd learned most of the people who worked for the organization didn't live very long. It looked like it had been Martha Jones lucky day—she was still alive to complain.

Ianto was upset enough that he didn't make one unnecessary remark. Instead, he tiredly addressed the civilian. "If you don't mind, can you take her to the Hub? We're down a few people, and could use the help."

"Can do," he replied succinctly. Suddenly suspicious, he demanded, "Where's Gwen?"

"Midwife's."

The answer seemed to appease the police constable, who helped Martha to her feet. Moving so quickly had exacerbated the pain in her head to the point that she vomited all over the sidewalk. Groaning, she clutched Andy's arms for support.

"Sure she doesn't need to go to hospital?"

Ianto was sure of no such thing, but Martha rallied enough to protest that she'd be fine with some rest. Mollified, PC Davison helped Dr. Jones into his squad car and sped away.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Returning to Melissa's side, Ianto heard the unmistakable sounds of the TARDIS engines. Expecting the Doctor's blue box, he was momentarily taken aback to see a black cylindrical Battle TARDIS fill the space six feet away. He recognized the Doctor's brother as he ran out, but the harried man dressed in flannel drawstring pants and a black t-shirt barely gave him a glance as he sank down beside Melissa and put his hands on her face.

"No, no, no, no!" Abruptly, Brax jumped up, swiftly searching the warehouse for something he came very close to praying not to find. Against the far wall, he spotted what he was seeking. Pulling off his t-shirt, he carefully wrapped the metallic object inside it, taking care not to come into direct contact with it. Striding into his TARDIS, he dematerialized and then rematerialized not thirty seconds later. Walking out, he was dressed in jeans and a plain red t-shirt, and wore the haggard look of a man with bad news to deliver.

Sitting down next to Melissa, he tenderly stroked her hair. "I took it to Gallifrey. We have special containment fields for this sort of thing."

"What sort of thing?" Ianto found himself asking, noting with some alarm that the Time Lord hadn't mentioned anything about Melissa's condition.

Momentarily surprised by the Welshman's ignorance, Brax recovered quickly and gave a straightforward reply. "It was a Dalek weapon, leftover from the Time War. It's triggered by the background radiation time travelers pick up while travelling through the Vortex. It's rather sophisticated technology, for a Dalek, anyway."

He stopped speaking for a few seconds, placing his hands once again against Melissa's face. While she didn't wake up, her eyes closed and her face relaxed. He displayed uncharacteristic emotion when he spoke again.

"I talked to Mickey Smith. He's treating the Doctor and the others as we speak. I can only assume that she broadcasted her pain strongly enough to give them all a nasty psychic shock. They should be conscious in a few hours, although it won't be soon enough for her."

"There's no hope?"

"If the Doctor hadn't been affected . . . ." He started to respond, and then trailed off.

Ianto understood that to be a no. "Jack will be arriving soon."

Brax stiffened and then let out a long breath. "He deserves a chance to say goodbye; I'll give him that much. I don't understand how or why, but I think she truly loved him."

When it was obvious that the Time Lord had lapsed into silence, Ianto walked outside to get some air. It was all a little much to take in. No matter how much he wanted to refute it, Tosh's curiosity was going to prove deadly.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Leaning against the open doorway for support, Jack looked down at Irving Braxiatel; he couldn't bear looking at his wife just yet. Ianto had explained everything to him as soon as he had arrived, but he held out faint hope that maybe the Welshman had misunderstood the hopelessness of the situation. For once, he hoped Brax had the better intell.

"You sure nothing can be done?"

Emotionlessly, Brax attempted to explain. "The bomb didn't affect her physically, Captain, but psychically. It's using her worst fears to excite certain areas of the brain. As long as she's trapped in those fears, the brain activity increases, and her body literally burns itself up. Her temperature's already increased four degrees and it will only go higher. If the Doctor had been unaffected by her pain, he might have been able to reach her because of their bond, but no one else has the deep mental connection to force her back to reality, not even me."

He finally had the courage to look at her. Although flushed, she looked to be sleeping. "If she's not dead yet, why I can't feel her anymore?"

Brax shoved him up against the wall before he could react. As the enraged Time Lord pressed his arm painfully against the Captain's windpipe, he demanded, "What do you mean, you can't feel her anymore? You shouldn't be able to feel her at all."

"We're bonded," Jack managed to painfully gasp out.

The Doctor's brother released his hold, although his outward hostility remained. "You're lying. That's impossible."

"Maybe it is impossible," he shot back, "but that doesn't mean I'm lying. The Doctor, Melissa and I are bonded—together."

The sneer on the Time Lord's face indicated that he still thought the assertion a lie. Jack was completely unprepared, therefore, when Brax grabbed him by the collar of his coat and forced him to his knees beside Melissa.

"Prove it," he spat out. "Or die trying. I don't care which at the moment. If Emma hadn't been so enamored of you, she and my brother wouldn't be on Earth right now. And, if your dead agent hadn't shown a blatant disregard for all common sense, no one would be dying at all."

Settling next to her, he ignored the diatribe. It wasn't as if he needed guilt or encouragement to convince him to try. He'd gladly give up his own life if it meant saving Melissa and the Doctor. Grasping her hand, he took a deep breath and entered her mind.


	17. Choosing to Believe

Author's Notes - Jack delves into Melissa's mind in an attempt to save her, and Brax discovers the Captain told him the truth.

Thanks to **dwatlaskrhtcm** for the review. Sorry if the last chapter was confusing. The scene with Melissa and Jack in the hospital took place solely in Melissa's mind. Hope this clears things up a bit.

* * *

><p>Entering Melissa's mind, Jack found himself in Athens, Greece. Wearing her black military uniform from the Time War, his wife stood on a dusty, deserted street gazing at the body of her dead daughter, Athena. A Dalek with a smoking hole in its side sat a few feet away. Even in her mindscape, she didn't look well. Her eyes were puffy and red-rimmed, and sweat lined her face.<p>

As he approached, she looked up dully. "Shouldn't you be with Ianto?"

Remembering what Brax had said about the bomb triggering her deepest fears, he answered resolutely. "No. I don't love, Ianto. I love you. And, right now, you need help."

Surprisingly, his declaration only made her angry. "Well, I'm sorry he won't take you back, Jack, but don't expect to come crawling back to me. I think you made it pretty clear in the hospital how you feel, and I don't need your pity. Get out of my sight."

Damn, this was going to be harder than he had thought. Since he had no way of knowing what she was talking about, he decided to tackle the problem from a slightly different angle.

"I love you, Melissa. Whatever you think I said; it wasn't me. It's your fear talking, nothing more. We're in your mind, Sweetheart. None of this is real. You're trapped in some sort of psychic explosion. You need to come with me."

"You bastard!" Emphatically, she pointed to the body of her daughter. "Don't you dare try telling me this isn't real! The Dalek killed her and I didn't do anything but watch! I wish it were me lying down there, but I was too much of a coward to save her."

He tried to will the image away, but all he got was a fierce headache for his efforts. The best he could do was point out the discrepancies and hope she'd notice.

"Where's Brax?"

His abrupt question confused her. "Brax? Why would he be here?"

Desperate to make her understand, he replied frankly. "Because that smug son of a bitch held you back while your daughter was exterminated. I know; you showed me your memories."

Warily, she glanced around. She could almost remember someone pinning her to a wall as she watched Athena die, but trying to recall made her head pound. Pressing her hands over her ears, she squeezed her eyes shut; the pressure was agonizing.

Seeing her reaction, Jack drove his point home. "This isn't real, Melissa. Athena was vaporized, remember? You can't be standing over her body. And, it wasn't your fault. Brax told you this was fixed, and he was right. Saving her would have caused a massive paradox."

"My head!"

The scene changed, and they were standing in Rassilon's tomb on Gallifrey. Jack saw himself lying motionless on the floor next to a pile of ash. The whole structure shook, sending stone raining down on top of his image. As the debris piled up around him, Melissa ran to his side, frantically trying to clear the rubble, bloodying her hands as she scratched and clawed at the rocks. No matter how much she tried to free him, however, the debris soon covered his lifeless body.

Standing on top the pile of rocks that now reached some five feet high, Melissa dazedly showed her bloody hands to Jack, who was standing alive and unscathed before her. "I know why you're haunting me, you know. It doesn't matter that I didn't want to. I murdered you, Jack. Your blood on my hands, until the end of my days. Everyone I love dies, and it's all my fault."

Her despondency almost broke his heart, but he had to try to reason with her. "No, Sweetheart, never. Sure, I died here, but it wasn't because of you. This wasn't murder; it was my choice. I died so you and the Doctor and your people could live, and I'd do it again in a second. Besides, I'm not a ghost. The Bad Wolf brought me back. I'm right here, with you. Let me help you."

Stepping carefully over the rubble, he came close enough to reach her bloody hands. Taking them tenderly in his, he brought them to his lips, kissing her palms. "You don't believe in ghosts, remember?"

"I . . . ." Doubling over, she wrenched her hands away from him. "My head!"

The scenery changed yet again, and they were standing in the basement of her house in Colorado, a large dark shadow looming on the stairs. A sneering, all too familiar voice called out. "You don't have any protection now, bitch. I'm going to finish what I started, and by the time I'm through with you, the Freak and the alien will be too disgusted at what you've done to even consider touching you!

"No," Jack declared with all the force of a maelstrom.

As she stood paralyzed at the base of the stairs, he grabbed her by the arms and pushed her against the far wall, blocking her view.

"No," he commanded again, daring her to challenge him. "Not this, not ever."

Holding her face so she couldn't look away, he gazed piercingly into her emerald eyes, hoping to overcome her terror long enough to finally get through to her.

"Listen to me, Sweetheart. This isn't real. You're trapped in your mind. You need to wake up before the babies are affected."

For a moment, she looked like she understood, and then all animation left her face. "I killed them because I insisted on working for Torchwood. You told me so. It's why the Doctor ran away and you went back to Ianto."

"NO!" he thundered until he realized that he was frightening her as much as the shadow on the stairs.

Releasing his grip, he tenderly stroked her cheek while maintaining eye contact. Schooling his voice, he said quietly, "No, Sweetheart. Our children are still alive. But you're in danger. Martha set off some sort of Dalek bomb. All of this is in your mind, and if you don't wake up soon, all three of you are going to die."

Clutching her head, she wailed. "Why are you doing this to me, Jack? Are you trying to drive me crazy to punish me?"

"Melissa, please! This isn't real!"

The scene began to change yet again, but before the mental image could stabilize, he took desperate measures. Ignoring his own senses, he sought out the bond they shared, convinced it still existed whether he could feel it or not. After a fierce struggle, his faith was rewarded. Merging with his wife, he could sense her confusion and fear, and, unexpectedly, the insidious, malevolent presence of a psychic parasite feasting on her terror. The arrogant Time Lord hadn't told him the whole truth. He didn't merely have to convince her she was hallucinating; he was going to have to fight for her life.

Using his love as a weapon, Jack called forth every positive memory they shared: the days and nights lying in each other's arms, the time spent with Susan and Matthew, Joy's smile, the Doctor's touch. Relentlessly, he continued until the parasite was forced to withdraw.

As it retreated, however, he became an easy target. He'd let go of Gray's hand, and been responsible for Tosh and Owen's deaths. He'd let her die on the Titanic. He'd done some truly reprehensible acts while working for Torchwood and the Time Agency. He'd selfishly abandoned Ianto and Gwen. No matter how much he struggled to overcome his subconscious fears, they began to cloud his mind.

Suddenly, Melissa surged into his consciousness. "Together, Jack! Or not at all!"

Existing fully intertwined, they blazed with such intensity that the parasite could find no dark corner in which to hide. It shriveled to nothingness, abruptly releasing them both. The sudden absence of conflict was enough to unbalance them, however, and the darkness claimed them separately.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Struggling to awareness, Melissa felt a warm hand gripping hers, but she was too afraid to call out or open her eyes. What if she was still trapped in her mind?

Sensing that she was on the verge of waking, Jack squeezed her hand. "I'm right here, Sweetheart. We both are."

Her eyes flew open. She halfway expected to find herself in a white hospital room, but she was in the TARDIS infirmary lying in a tub of tepid water, Jack and the Doctor by her side. Surprisingly, Brax was hovering over her as well. Still not quite sure if this was reality or fantasy, her hands flew to her stomach, and for once she was thankful to feel herself stretched to massive proportions.

"They're going to be fine," the Doctor promised before she could ask the question. "Just relax. This is the quickest way to get your temperature down. Jack and I are going to be here the entire time. You don't have anything to worry about, Em."

Convinced by their reassurances that this was finally reality, she took his advice. Her body was strangely exhausted for having been trapped in her mind. Her eyes drooped shut and her hand went slack as she relaxed to the point of semi-consciousness. Drifting towards oblivion, she was only partially aware of the charged conversation taking place around her.

"She's out again."

"She'll be fine, Jack. There's no trace of the entity you reported in either of your minds, and her pulses have stabilized."

The Doctor wanted to kiss him for pulling off the stunt he had, but his head still hurt too much to endure the verbal fireworks his brother would no doubt spew if he did. Instead, he put his hand on his shoulder. "It was a good day. Everybody lived."

The Captain smiled faintly at the reference before angrily addressing the other man in the room. "It would have been a hell of a lot easier if you had told me I was dealing with a nasty psychic parasite rather than some sort of chemical trigger."

For once Brax looked sheepish. "I didn't tell you because I didn't know. No one's ever been able to save someone hit by a Dalek mind bomb. Every attempt we've ever made to study its mechanism has resulted in the death of the team studying it."

Stupefied, he glared at the surprisingly contrite Time Lord until he finally found his voice. "So, all that crap about the Doctor being able to save her was wishful thinking?"

The smugness surged back into his voice, but there was a touch of humor mixed in. "My brother's a genius. I have no doubt he could have done the same."

Rolling his eyes, Jack then stared frankly at the Doctor, his meaning clear. "You've got one thing right. Your brother is a genius, in more ways than I can count."

"Spare me the details," Brax testily replied. "You know I thought you were lying, don't you?"

"Lying about what?" the Doctor asked. He'd only arrived a few minutes ago, having been affected by Melissa's ordeal more than the other Time Lords.

"I had to out us, Doc. I asked about the bond when he said you were the only one who could save her."

His head throbbing, the Doctor decided there was only one thing he could do about that. "Oh. Good. That's good, Jack. Means I can do this." Gleefully pulling the Captain close, he kissed him soundly on the lips. "Best day ever! I promise never to doubt you again. You really are an impossible thing, Captain, and I mean that from both my hearts."

"Yeah, well, I love you too, Doc."

Equally touched and stunned that Jack had said those words out loud, the Doctor wasn't quite prepared for his brother's reaction. "Are you trying to cause a civil war? Amathow's liable to put you on trial for fraternizing with the lesser species if you're not careful. And, Romana's still royally pissed off that you chose Emma over her. Don't expect her to plead your case. Frankly, none of you need the scrutiny. The Council's agreed the Bad Wolf represents a clear and present danger to the Web of Time. They've decided to accept Rassilon's interference in the Emissary's timeline because it was corrupted before he touched it. If they find out the Bad Wolf's still influencing events, they will take action to stop those events from occurring."

Angry with both the message and the messenger, the Doctor irritably rebuked his older brother. "That's enough, Braxiatel. I'm tired of hearing you say, 'the Council this and the Council that' because I know for a fact that you have just as much influence on the Council as Amathow or Romana. So maybe it's time you started using that influence to change a few things instead of constantly bemoaning the fact that I'm nothing but a disappointment to you."

Taken aback, Brax stared at the ground. When he spoke, it was with all the reluctance of a guilty schoolboy. "I've never been disappointed in you, Doc. You've never been afraid to act, while I stay in the shadows, content to listen at keyholes and whisper a word here and there."

Uncomfortable with the sudden revelation, he answered gruffly. "Perhaps it's time to put some of that illicit knowledge of yours to use. Gallifrey has to go forward. It can't stagnate; there's just too much at stake."

"That would be much easier if you and Emma simply accepted the roles the people have chosen for you. Half the population still refers to you as High Lord President, no matter that Romana currently wears the sash of Rassilon. And Emma's pregnancy, no matter how unconventional, is a beacon of hope to the entire planet."

The Doctor glanced down at Melissa; it was past time to tell his brother the truth. "Yeah, about that. We should probably tell you that one of the fetuses is human."

Unexpectedly, Irving Braxiatel laughed. "I should have known. You never were one to do things halfway. Well, that ought to shake things up a little. I can tell you one thing, though; Leela would have been proud."

"Leela?" Jack thought he knew the identities of all the Doctor's former companions, but that wasn't a name he recognized.

"A companion of mine who ended up staying on Gallifrey with a Time Lord named Andred. Leela was of the Seveteem, very much like a human. I think she and Andred eventually emigrated to Arcadia. The Arcadians were much more welcoming of 'the lesser species' than the Time Lords."

"Was she on Arcadia when it fell?"

Watching Melissa for any signs of distress, he answered distractedly. "No, she had died several centuries earlier. This was when I wore that ridiculously long scarf."

"Teeth and curls?"

"Exactly.

Taking one last look at Melissa, Brax stood up. "Much as I don't wish to, I've got to report to the Council. Hopefully, their astonishment at the Emissary's recovery will be enough of a distraction that they won't even ask about the suspicious fire that could have easily killed two of the young ones. Be glad you couldn't link this one directly to Earth First. And, if you insist on keeping her ignorant, at least keep her well guarded."

Before either the Doctor or Jack could reply, the Time Lord walked out of the warehouse. He had much to think about and even more to plan if he was going to succeed in keeping his brother and bond sister safe. He just hoped they'd forgive him for what he was about to do.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Getting out of the tub proved to be much more difficult than getting in. At least, Melissa thought so since she was conscious this time. After suffering several blows to her dignity, she was standing more or less on her own wrapped in a huge fluffy white towel.

For a moment, no one moved. Jack and the Doctor studied her like they couldn't quite believe she was real, and Drocina watched them all with a critical eye.

Feeling shakier the longer she stood, she gave them all a lopsided smile. "So, I guess I'm out of a job."

It had been a rather pathetic attempt at humor, and it definitely didn't go over well. "That's it?" the Doctor demanded in disbelief. "You almost die and the best you can come up with is, 'I guess I'm out of a job'?"

Knowing she was seconds away from tears, she turned belligerent. "Well, excuse me for thinking that a little joke would be better than hysterics! Fine! If you want me bawling my eyes out, I can do that, too!"

Instantly, she burst into tears, the fears torn from her subconscious still haunting her. Delayed stress reaction, she thought numbly as she felt the Doctor's and Jack's arms around her. Docilely, she let them dress her in a comfortable cotton nightgown, and barely noticed when Jack put his coat on her shoulders.

It was only when she heard Drocina using words like "sedative" and "IV" that she roused herself enough to care. "No," she stated quietly, wondering if she was past the point when anyone would listen to her. "I want food and some real sleep; afterwards, I'll go into the Hub for a complete body scan."

Then, in a very hesitant, small voice, which was quite unlike her at all, she pleaded. "And I want someone to tell me it's going to be okay, that the babies are okay, and this is the worst of it because, frankly, I'm not sure how much more I can take."

This time, when the Doctor and Jack threw their arms around her and promised that everything would be fine, she chose to believe them.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The next time Melissa woke, she was in the Doctor's bed in the TARDIS, Jack and the Doctor on either side. Again, the unexpected change of scenery frightened her, but with effort, she was able to tamp down her fear. She remembered their promises that everything would be alright. And, she definitely recalled the pan of lasagna they'd shared afterwards in the TARDIS kitchen as they did their best to lift her spirits. It had given her heartburn long after their impromptu dinner. Yes, this was definitely real.

Content for the moment to lie between them, she tentatively opened her mind to find the bundle of emotions that was her daughter. It seemed the child had suffered no lasting effects from the attack on her mother's psyche. In fact, the baby was fascinated at the moment by her fists, repeatedly opening and closing them in amazement. That simple act reassured Melissa like nothing else could. Lying quietly, she put her hands to her abdomen, rejoicing when she felt her son kick and poke against her.

Jack snaked his arm around her to rest it on her stomach. "They're awfully playful right now. Is that what woke you?"

Reaching behind to pat his leg, she snuggled closer to him. "I got tired of being tired."

They lay together quietly for a while, satisfied just to be touching. Then, trying not to wake the Doctor, she slowly flipped over to face Jack. Affectionately, she kissed his cheek. "I don't even know what to say. I had come to believe I was this horrible person, that I deserved everything that was happening, and then all I could feel was your love and I knew I couldn't be all bad. It was amazing. I never knew a bond could be that strong. You saved me, Jack."

Threading his fingers through her long hair, he tenderly brushed his lips against hers. "I think we said it all through the bond, don't you? Sometimes it's nice not to need the words."

"Still, thank you sounds woefully inadequate, and I'm not allowed to show you my appreciation properly."

"That's okay. The Doctor showed his appreciation, which was almost as good."

Her face took on a funny expression. "Really? You two had sex while I was in the tub? I was tired, but not that tired. I think I would have noticed."

Chuckling, Jack played with her wavy auburn hair. "Unfortunately, not, Sweetheart. I think Braxiatel would have shot me for that. No, he pretty much snogged me in front of his brother."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "I bet he would have. Did he make the whole, 'fraternization with the lesser species' rant, or has he come up with something better?"

"He didn't have time to make any new arguments. The Doctor put him in his place fairly quickly. I think old Irving might actually be on our side."

She dismissed his statement with a wave of her hand. "Brax is on whatever side he thinks he needs to be. He might be more dangerous with us than against us."

"Hope not. He made it very clear how intolerant the High Council has become."

That information surprised her. "They can't be that bad. Romana's no friend of mine, but she's honest, as far as politicians go. And, Flavia's weathered more than one political scandal in her time. I can't imagine them being too rigid."

He didn't want to argue with her, especially when he'd only be mimicking what the Doctor's brother had told him. He replied noncommittally. "You'd know better than me."

She closed her eyes, and he half expected her to fall back asleep, but she had other ideas. Putting her left hand behind her, she persistently tapped the Doctor's hip.

Stretching, he didn't seem all that pleased to be woken. "What?"

"How's the head?"

"Somewhat better," he answered warily, knowing that she had something in mind, just not what.

Opening her eyes, she winked mischievously at Jack. "Good. I can't show Jack my appreciation, but you can. Get started."

Rubbing his eyes, the Doctor tried to think of a suitable response, but he couldn't find one. "You expect me to act as your . . . sexual proxy—for Jack?"

Stifling a snort of laughter, Melissa said very seriously, "Well, of course for Jack. Who else would I be talking about? He did save my life rather spectacularly."

"Yes, he did," the Doctor agreed solemnly. "And I'm very appreciative of that fact, and I don't have a problem with having sex with Jack per se, but really, Emma, you expect me to, um, perform on command? Now?"

Biting his cheek to keep from laughing, Jack feigned indignation. "Hey! I'll have you know that not one of my partners has had problems with performance. Give me some credit, Doc!"

Fearing he'd hurt the Captain's feelings, the Doctor backtracked and stumbled over several apologies until his bond mates couldn't stand it any longer. Erupting into a fit of giggles, Melissa turned to face him as Jack's laughter echoed in the room.

"Oi! What was that for?"

"That's what you get for sleeping in," she replied with a peck on the cheek. "Besides, I needed to laugh very badly." Catching her breath, she continued in a slightly more sober tone. "And, I wanted to make a point. I may not be able to enjoy sex, but that doesn't mean the two of you have to abstain."

Sitting up, the Doctor and Jack shared a look, immediately reaching an agreement on a subject neither had ever seriously considered. "We haven't even discussed it, Sweetheart. I'm not saying that we won't one day. I mean, I can certainly see myself enjoying some alone time with him."

"And I with Jack," the Doctor continued seamlessly. "But right now, we want to be focused on you."

"You're sure?" she asked uncertainly.

"Melissa, even I can handle a little abstinence. Besides, it's not like we can experience morning sickness or labor pains. This is the least we can do."

"If you put it like that . . . ."

"We do," the Doctor assured her before springing out of bed. "Now, get dressed, unless you want everyone to see you in your nightgown. I'm sure Drocina's demanding keys to the TARDIS by now."

Dressed and ready a mere twenty minutes later, Melissa found that Drocina wasn't the only one waiting outside the Doctor's TARDIS. Donna, Martha and even Gwen embraced her as soon as she stepped out of the ship.

"It's good to see you're alright, Spacegirl. Ianto's already making plans to torch the warehouse."

"Isn't that a little extreme?"

Gwen was quick to answer. "Jack, Ianto and I made the decision together. It's one thing to find a few alien sex toys, but you and Martha could have been killed because of Tosh's curiosity. Who knows what Suzie might have had that we missed. Might as well get rid of it all in one go."

"I guess." Still, she couldn't help but wonder what treasures might be hidden among the junk in the warehouse.

Impatiently tapping her foot, Drocina pushed her way to the front of the group. "Why don't we do the scan first and then you can chat, Emissary."

Taking the not so subtle hint, Donna, Gwen and Martha assured Melissa that they'd be happy to see her after her checkup. Watching Drocina's newfound assertiveness with amusement, Jack and the Doctor trailed closely behind as the healer led their wife to the medical bay. It didn't take long for the scan's results to be displayed on the white wall.

Unconsciously pursing her lips, the young Time Lord carefully studied the results. "Your brain scans the same as from before the parasite's attack, Emissary. There's no sign of further degradation of the temporal lobe."

"That's good, I guess." She responded unenthusiastically. The thought that the psychic parasite might have permanently affected her mind definitely unsettled her.

"It is good," the healer affirmed staunchly. "Considering no one has ever survived such a weapon, the fact that your brain wasn't damaged further is nothing short of miraculous."

"Oh."

Noticing her reaction, the Doctor took Melissa's hand. "Can we see the fetuses now, Drocina? Emma is well aware that she was lucky. I don't think you need to reiterate that fact."

Chastised, she quickly helped Melissa onto the table, pushing the flowing green dress she was wearing to her chest. Holding the real time scanner to her stomach, it was remarkable to see the fetal development that had taken place in the last few weeks. The girl was six pounds, her body fully mature. The next thirteen weeks would see the maturation of her mind, which couldn't be measured by such a primitive medical device.

The boy, however, was much smaller, his body still developing, and Melissa picked up on the discrepancy immediately. "What's wrong? Shouldn't he be at the same stage of development?"

"His growth is normal for a human, Emissary. In fact, it's occurring at a slightly accelerated rate. However, he will not be mature when your daughter induces labor. He'll need to be incubated for at least another four weeks if his growth rate remains steady. The Doctor has already provided me with an artificial womb for this purpose."

Looking at her bond mates, she realized something important. "You both knew, and you didn't tell me. Why?"

The healer took responsibility before either man could apologize. "I told them not to, Emissary. You cannot understand the concept of four weeks or four days, and I thought it would upset you unnecessarily."

Anguished, she tried to make the young healer understand why that had been a terrible idea. "But, I can comprehend before and after. And, I remember what it's like to deliver healthy twins. I was expecting to hold them, together. One of each: a daughter and a son, Time Lord and human, the Doc's and Jack's, both in my arms. Not, my Time Lord daughter in my arms and my human son in an artificial womb. Don't you think I'd be more upset learning that then than now?"

"I'm sorry, Emissary; I only meant to protect you."

"I don't need that kind of protection." Glaring at all three of them, she lashed out in frustration. "I am pregnant, not sick, and while I have some brain damage, I am not an imbecile! Stop treating me like I won't understand."

"We promise." Jack's answer was automatic, and Melissa studied him for an uncomfortably long time, attempting to determine if he was being truthful or just trying to pacify her. It was impossible to tell. He was an accomplished con artist, even if he had reformed, and the expression on his face was unreadable.

"Great. So you two might as well tell me the rest of it. I know you're holding something back, something big."

She'd only been bluffing, and expected them to deny it, but that didn't happen. Jack suddenly couldn't meet her eyes. The Doctor could, but there was so much pain in his gaze that she wished he hadn't.

"Let's finish the exam first, Em. I know you don't like us being overprotective, but we had the best of intentions. Jack can call everyone into the conference room, and we can share information. I know Mickey was hoping for a breakthrough yesterday."

"Sure." She really hoped Drocina had already taken her pulse rates because they had just ratcheted upwards. What had she stumbled into? She didn't think it had anything to do with her pregnancy since it involved the rest of Torchwood, but she couldn't help but feel apprehensive. In fact, after what had recently happened to her, she feared she might have a panic attack just wondering about what it might be.

"Emissary?"

"Yes?"

Blinking, she focused on Drocina. The young woman had finally settled on a somewhat permanent style, choosing skinny jeans and a black t-shirt overlaid with a crocheted maroon tunic. She still wore black combat boots, but she'd recently begun to put her thick, black hair into a messy topknot that reminded Melissa of a stunted palmetto tree.

"Your glucose levels are borderline, and you could use some extra iron and calcium. Do you think you could eat while we discuss Earth First? If not, I'm afraid I'll need to deliver your supplement intravenously this time."

"Help me up."

Once the Doctor had helped her to her feet, she plastered a semblance of a smile onto her face. "I'll avoid the IV. Does cake and ice cream with a spinach salad on the side work?"

"If you could add a hamburger to that, I think it will suffice. Chips would be even better."

Her smile almost turned to a frown, but she recovered quickly. That seemed like an awful lot of food when she wasn't all that hungry, but she'd do almost anything to avoid being hooked up to a bag of glucose and who knew what else. "Sounds great."

Thinking nothing was amiss, Drocina forged ahead in order to speak to Ianto about ordering an early lunch. As soon as the healer was out of sight, however, Melissa allowed her rage to show. "Earth First?" she hissed. "This has to do with Earth First? Why the hell haven't you kept me in the loop? You both promised me that nutcase wasn't going to be a problem!"

"He's not. The organization is. Marshall's still in Colorado, under constant FBI surveillance."

Somewhat mollified by the Doctor's explanation, she took a cleansing breath. "Okay. I think I can handle that. How bad are we talking about? Demonstrations? Riots? I haven't seen anything on the news."

"Well," the Doctor reluctantly admitted, "no one's died."

Ruefully, she shook her head. "This is one of those times I'm going to be sorry I asked, isn't it?"

"Probably," they both agreed in unintended harmony.

Since she'd brought it on herself, there was no point in blaming them. Childishly, she stuck her tongue before composing herself to go in search of Donna, Gwen and Martha. She suddenly wanted to talk about anything but work.


	18. A Perfect Summer Day

Author's Notes - Yes, there's an awful lot of information in this chapter and not very much action. I hope it isn't too boring to read, but there's a good reason for most of it. Thanks to **dwatlaskrhtcm** for reviewing the last chapter, and **Kassandra J** for reviewing the last three! And, thank you to everyone who is reading this.

* * *

><p>Sitting at the head of a long rectangular table in Malcolm's café, Jack watched Melissa swallow another bite of hummingbird cake. She was doing her best to mask her discomfort, but both he and the Doctor could sense that she had to force herself to take each subsequent mouthful. Drocina had insisted she eat a gargantuan amount of food, even by Time Lord standards.<p>

Surreptitiously, he squeezed her leg under the table. She paused mid-bite to smile queasily in appreciation, and then resumed eating. Sitting across from her, the Doctor took his spoon and scooped up a dripping mound of vanilla ice cream from her bowl. Popping it into his mouth, he dared the young Time Lord to scold him.

She didn't. She couldn't help but notice that all the humans at the table were watching Melissa shovel food in her mouth like she was a sideshow at a carnival. Perhaps she'd been too optimistic about the amount of calories her pregnant patient could be expected to consume at one time.

Emboldened by Drocina's lack of censure, both Jack and the Doctor began to eat from Melissa's dessert bowl, quickly putting an end to her unpleasant task. It was only when the rest of the table began to clap that they realized all conversation had long since ceased and the three of them had become the center of attention.

Flushing, Melissa covered her mouth as a loud belch erupted from her throat. "You can shoot me now," she called out, completely embarrassed.

"No thank you," Ianto replied in his most serious tone of voice. "You might just explode, and I have no desire to clean that up."

Everyone smiled at that. While Ianto had long ago become a full-fledged field agent, he would be forever known for his expertise at cleaning up Torchwood's various messes.

Glancing briefly at the door to make sure it was locked, Jack leaned back in his chair. "Okay, people. Let's get the briefing over with before we all fall asleep from overeating. Donna, you want to read out what facts we know so far?"

Flipping through a memo pad, Donna swiftly deciphered her shorthand. "Here goes, sunshine. Earth First has claimed responsibility for three attempted attacks on Time Lords. The first occurred in a flat in Miami, where six idiots armed with knives broke into the shared home of four male Time Lords, who showed an amazing amount of restraint when subduing them. I mean, seriously, they could have put them all in hospital, but the worst thing they did was break a nose. The second attack occurred in Melbourne a week later. This time, four Earth Firsters accosted a lone female Time Lord close to her job at a bar. Several male passersby recognized her from the bar and beat her would be attackers to a bloody pulp before they could do anything more than scratch her face. The third occurred near a pachinko parlor in Toyko. This time, the Earth Firsters didn't even make it to their target. Each time, a claim has been phoned into London UNIT HQ minutes after a planned attack, suggesting they were coordinated operations."

"Okay," Jack acknowledged. "Those are the bare facts. Ianto, have you discovered how many attacks there have been on other aliens in the same period?"

"Fifteen in the UK, sixty-two worldwide, although we have to assume it's higher given that most of the aliens in question are still distrustful of UNIT. The vast majority have been nothing more than aggressive harassment. Two attacks in America have received widespread publicity. A Vinvocci couple was arrested for shoplifting in a small town in west Texas and found dead in their cell the next morning. The FBI is investigating that one, but Earth First has not claimed credit. And, a Slitheen was killed at a University of Mississippi pep rally, but there is mounting evidence that he was hunting when a group of cheerleaders flung pickle juice on him. The local authorities still have jurisdiction on that one."

"Has Earth First claimed credit for any of the other incidents, Ianto?" Mickey had been so busy trying to track down the organization through the internet that this was the first time he'd heard of the other attacks.

"In fourteen, the perpetrators have publically allied themselves with the group, and six of those arrested are well known members of the movement, but no one has called up UNIT headquarters in the Tower to claim responsibility like they have in the other three instances."

As everyone pondered that information, Martha suggested, "So, they're specifically targeting Time Lords?"

"I think the better question," the Doctor countered, "is why are they calling UNIT Headquarters in London rather than Geneva. The three attacks didn't even take place on British soil."

"We are all such Dumbos," Donna remarked unexpectedly, as if a light bulb had gone off inside her head. "What's London got that Geneva doesn't? The Brigadier."

Everyone looked at her for an explanation, although the Doctor and Jack had an uneasy feeling they knew what she was about to say.

"What did the Brigadier do as soon as Earth First claimed responsibility for the Miami attack? He came here, to warn us that they were targeting Time Lords. They must want us to know for some reason."

Drocina fidgeted with her water glass. She didn't like the implications. "Suppose for a moment that your hypothesis is true, Donna. To whom is such a message directed, Torchwood or the Doctor and the Emissary?"

"Hold on a minute," Gwen argued. "I think we're getting ahead of ourselves here. Why would Earth First want to inform Torchwood or Time Lords at all? What do they want? They haven't been successful in carrying out their attacks, but they still claim credit. That seems counterintuitive."

"Gwen's got a point. Why claim credit for unsuccessful attacks? So we don't take them seriously?"

As soon as Ianto asked the question, everyone looked at Jack to provide the answer. There were only two options he could think of. "Either they're like most terrorist organizations that consider even a failed assault to be a victory or-"

Grimly, Mickey finished Jack's sentence. "Or they want us to know exactly who's responsible when they succeed." Apologetically, he continued. "Sorry for stealing your thunder, boss, but from what I've been able to intercept, Earth First is planning something big."

"Go on, Mick." This was new information, to everyone.

"I've cracked the encryption code they use in their chat rooms. Most of the people on the site are tossers ranting about aliens taking their jobs and their women, but twenty or so have a private chat once a week to plan an attack involving a gun in four parts that can kill a Time Lord."

Scoffing, Martha swiftly corrected her boyfriend. "That's a fairytale, Mickey. I concocted that story to fool the Master while I was delivering the Doctor's message during the year that never was."

Martha expected the Doctor to immediately back her up, but instead he made a face and rubbed the back of his neck. "There was no such weapon then. There may be now."

Suddenly, he had everyone's attention. Curious in spite of herself, Drocina asked, "And what does it use as ammunition? It is my understanding that projectile weapons are a fairly benign catalyst of regeneration."

"When I say weapon, I mean poison, so I suppose there are many ways to administer it. The weapon itself could be as ordinary as a tranquilizer gun used by veterinarians at a zoo."

"Name the parts," Melissa demanded.

"Aspirin, sodium thiopental, ketamine and . . . ." He trailed off apologetically. "We haven't been able to discover the fourth ingredient, although we're guessing it's some sort of muscle relaxant or neural inhibitor."

"Why two different anesthetics?" Martha wondered.

"Sodium thiopental can interfere with the regeneration process, and both can cause rapid unconsciousness, Martha. And, an unconscious Time Lord can't call for help. Assuming a high enough dosage of aspirin, death could occur within an hour."

"That's not a pretty picture you're painting, Doc."

"No, it's not, and it's past time to inform the students of the dangers, but I don't want them gathering in a large group. I've scheduled a video conference for tomorrow morning. Many may decide to return to Gallifrey. Life there is harsh at the moment, but definitely safer."

"Maybe that's the point," Gwen offered.

Ianto wasn't so sure. "Then why just Time Lords? Why not do the same thing to all the other races living more or less in the open now?"

There was some muttering after that, but Jack quickly silenced the chatter. "Those are all good questions, but we can't answer any of them until we know more about Earth First's motivations. And for that, Mickey, we need to hack into their entire system, not just their private chat room. Doctor, Donna, see if you can help him. Martha, Drocina, I want you to investigate any mysterious deaths of aliens in the last three months. Let's make sure no one's using the attacks against Time Lords to distract us from a more insidious threat. Ianto, Gwen, you get to babysit the Rift. It hasn't disappeared just because we've suddenly got other problems."

"Jack."

He smiled fondly at his second-in-command. At thirteen weeks, her pregnancy was barely noticeable, unlike his wife, who by now looked like she could pop at any second.

"Yes, Gwen?"

"I'm not going to be able to monitor the Rift." Unflinchingly meeting his gaze, she regretfully continued. "I'm sorry, Jack, but Rhys and I have made our decision. I'm quitting Torchwood. Maybe in a few years, I'll be able to come back, but what happened to Melissa and Martha convinced me there is no safe duty here. I have another life to think about right now, and I have to bloody well do what I feel is right."

Observing reactions, he silently noted that everyone else was just as blindsided by her announcement as he was. Still, it didn't come as a complete surprise, and he managed to keep the smile on his face.

"You know that no one quits Torchwood, so how about we call it an extended leave of absence? You're one of the best agents I've ever worked with, and you'll always have a job waiting for you should you want it."

Before she could protest, he added warmly, "And, I still expect to be called Uncle Jack. Tell Rhys he isn't getting out of that so easily."

Immensely relieved that he was taking the news so well, she beamed. "We wouldn't want it any other way. I hope that goes for the rest of you, too. I may not be working here for a while, but that doesn't mean we can't get together sometimes, yeah?"

Suppressing a grin, Jack noted that she'd subconsciously made the decision to return. As he watched everyone wish her well and promise that they'd keep in touch, he wondered if it was simply that easy to walk away. Of course, Gwen hadn't given the vast majority of her life to the organization, and she didn't feel the responsibility he did to keep it going. Standing up to give her a hug, he pushed such thoughts out of his mind. He didn't have time to worry about the future, not with Earth First such a threat to the present.

"You're gonna come back," he said confidently.

"Maybe," she answered, unwilling to commit. "But first, I have a baby boy to contend with. I have a feeling aliens would have been easier."

"I didn't think the midwife could tell this early," Donna remarked as she overheard the news.

"She can't. Drocina let me use the scanner day before yesterday. Rhys is overjoyed, although we're both scared of telling his mum. She has some truly frightening names already picked out."

"They can't be any worse than Time Lord names," Martha suggested. "What are you going to call the twins, Doctor, the Dentist and the Counselor?"

"Now, Martha," the Doctor began with a twinkle in his eye. "I'll have you know those names are already taken. Might have to come up with something a bit more colorful." Then, after a quick glance at Melissa and Jack, he added nonchalantly. "Of course, since the boy's human, we'll have to think of something to honor that heritage as well."

"I knew it!" Mickey crowed. "The boss has been looking a little too pleased with himself for the past few weeks. Guess your sperm's just as flexible as you are, Captain Cheesecake."

Jack shook his head good-naturedly. "How many times do I have to tell you, it's beefcake, Mickey?"

Ianto was stunned into silence at the news but Gwen thought it was wonderful. Teasing her soon to be former boss, she asked, "So how many children will this make for you, Jack? Tosh and I always wondered if you had to be wary of dating your great-great-granddaughter with you living in Cardiff so long."

Melissa squeezed Jack's hand as his smile dimmed. Meeting his gaze, she silently offered her support. It seemed to be an afternoon for honesty. Seeing their change in demeanor, the group turned serious. Those that knew about Joy looked on with compassion, while those that didn't wondered what he was about to say.

"This is only the second time for me to be a father, Gwen. Melissa and I had a beautiful baby girl a few years back, but she died shortly after birth. Thankfully, Drocina assures us both fetuses are developing normally. And, I guess it's pretty obvious the Doctor's the biological father of the girl, but we've decided that doesn't really matter. The three of us will be a family of five soon."

"Oh, Jack, I didn't know. I wouldn't have joked like that if I had."

A smile reappeared as he poked fun at himself. "Hey, statistically, you and Tosh were on the money. By rights, I should have dozens of Mini Me's or their descendents running around the Welsh countryside."

"Well, thank God you don't," Donna called our irreverently. "I can't imagine having some fifty-five year old with your jaw and a receding hairline chatting me up in the shops, gorgeous."

Dramatically, he put his hand to his hair. "You think this is going to recede, Donna? Bad enough that I discovered a few gray hairs the other day, now I have to worry about a huge forehead in my future?"

"Not to worry, Captain. If you could put up with the big ears, I'm sure Melissa and I can get used to a little male pattern baldness."

He groaned. "Let's not go there, Doc. I have to admit being immortal had its advantages."

"I don't know," Ianto deadpanned. "It never did much for your clothes."

"True, I ruined a hell of a lot of shirts stepping in front of bullets. I bet my tailor's wondering where his business went."

"You have your wardrobe made, Jack? No wonder it all looks the same."

"What do you expect, Martha? It's not like I can buy my coat at Marks and Spencer. Besides, the guy's an authority on period clothing. If the Doctor decides to take us all to a party in the twenties, we can look the part."

"Did that already, thank you very much. Got to see Agatha Christie and giant wasps, as a matter of fact."

"No? Really?"

As Gwen eagerly asked Donna to tell her all about the famous author and the vespiform, Jack bent down to kiss his wife.

"Not that I didn't enjoy it, but what was that for?"

"No reason, except life is fantastic."

"Were you listening to the same briefing, Jack? Because Earth First doesn't sound that fantastic to me."

"They've got the FBI, UNIT and us on their tail. We'll get them before they can cause too much trouble. Still doesn't change the fact that I'm about to become a dad again. Now, why don't we grab the Doctor and sneak back to the Hub before Drocina decides you should eat some more cake."

Thinking that she'd eaten enough to have an aversion to hummingbird cake for the rest of her life, Melissa quickly agreed.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"What's this?"

Standing with the Doctor in the conference room the next morning, Melissa didn't know what to make of the leather wingback recliner that Ianto and Mickey carried into the room.

"Your chair, milady." Mickey bowed with a flourish, grinning the entire time. "Jack's decided you'd be more comfortable with your feet up, so he ordered four identical recliners. There's one in his office, one in the archives, one near the work stations and one here."

"He had furniture delivered to the Hub?"

"Nah. He had Ianto and me do the heavy lifting. Brought 'em through the tourist entrance 'bout an hour ago."

"Well, to be fair, he did help with the other three," Ianto pointed out. "He's on the phone with UNIT right now. They've intercepted an unidentified signal on the dark side of the moon."

"Oh? Is the signal directed towards the Earth or away from it?"

"I don't believe they know yet, Doctor. Jack is speaking to a Colonel Mace, who is subtly suggesting you take the TARDIS and find out."

"There's nothing subtle about it, Ianto." Jack remarked irately as he joined the group. "The colonel seems to think you're still under their beck and call, Doc. Said this would be right up your alley."

"Why can't the Americans launch a shuttle? Donna, Mickey and I are going after the Earth First mainframe as soon as I finish this conference call."

"Shuttles are grounded—again. It would take at least a week to get one up and running. As much as I hate to say it, the TARDIS is the best we have available."

"Fine, Captain. I'll go just as soon as I finish speaking to the young ones, and then I'll help Donna and Mickey."

"Not without me, you're not."

The Doctor wanted to argue, but it made sense to take Jack. He had years of field experience. And, since he was taking one, he might as well take two. "So, what do you say, Mr. Jones? Fancy a trip to the moon?"

For once, Ianto's sangfroid deserted him. "Would I? I've wanted to be an astronaut since I was seven! Can I actually walk on the moon?"

"It's more like hopping," the Doctor answered with a sly grin. "And, yeah, I imagine all three of us will have to get suited up at some point. Think I've got enough equipment in the wardrobe room for that. Just don't let Martha know. She and I did the moon landing multiple times, but we always watched from the safety of the TARDIS."

"Then, yes, I'd like to go."

"It might be dangerous," the Time Lord warned, his expression no longer playful.

"And the Rift isn't?"

"Point taken. Meet me in an hour in front of the TARDIS." Then, addressing the Captain, he said, "And, Jack, remind the colonel that the TARDIS isn't a taxi service before you reluctantly agree to talk me into it."

"Will do, Doc. See you in an hour." Pausing at the doorway, he gestured to the chair. "Hope you like it, Sleeping Beauty. The one in my office also has a built in massager, not that I would try to bribe you to spend more time with me."

"Sounds like you're not going to be in your office, Jack."

"I will be, just as soon as we figure out which ET is phoning home. I've got a ton of reports to read and even more to write."

"I could read the reports and summarize them for you."

"Really? That would be great, Melissa. I'd appreciate it. Just don't write my reports. I've trained UNIT and the government to expect a certain level of mediocrity, and I wouldn't want you to give them false expectations."

"Will do, or in this case, won't do. Just leave everything on your desk."

Snapping a salute, he answered, "Yes, ma'am!" before leaving to call Colonel Mace.

As Ianto excused himself as well, the Doctor put his arm on Melissa's shoulder. "We'll be fine, and back as soon as we can."

"I know," she sighed, tentatively trying out her new chair. "And I know I'd only get in the way. Doesn't make me want to go any less."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Fiddling with the controls of futuristic video projector he'd borrowed from the TARDIS, the Doctor watched Melissa put her feet up and relax. Jack had been right; the recliners would encourage her to take it easy. "Comfy?"

"Almost too much. I could fall asleep in one of these if I'm not too careful."

That was partly the point, but he didn't see fit to mention that. "Nothing wrong with a nap, but it sounds like Jack's leaving you with enough work to keep you busy." Then, finishing the adjustments to the video projector, he initiated the conference between them and the students still living on Earth.

One by one, the large table was filled with small, holographic images of the young Time Lords. As they popped into existence, Melissa had to cover her mouth to stifle a laugh.

"What's so funny?" the Doctor whispered.

"Help me Obi-wan Kenobi, you're my only hope."

He grinned with her. "More like an invasion of the Lilliputians. Although, I should add Star Wars to my list of must see Earth movies for this lot."

"You've made a list?"

"I have many lists," he responded archly. "But, for the students, I've given them five: entertainment, foods, historical events, holidays and cultural taboos. They're all eager to embrace Earth culture."

"Maybe we should make a few lists so they can embrace Gallifreyan culture as well. Or do you really expect them to stay on Earth for the rest of their regenerations?"

"That's a tricky question, Em. I hope that most of them will return to Gallifrey at some point."

The video projector began to flash, and the Doctor quickly stopped talking. "Ready?" Nodding, Melissa stood next to the Doctor, taking his hand.

"Hullo!" the Doctor said brightly, addressing all of the former students. "Sorry for the virtual meeting, but after you hear what I have to say, you'll understand why I didn't ask you to come to Cardiff. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to talk first, and then you can ask questions."

Proceeding, the Doctor outlined what they'd learned about the threat Earth First posed, and the possibility of a the existence of a weapon that could kill a Time Lord. It took almost twenty minutes, and by the end of his warning, almost every holographic image had raised their hand to ask a question.

Running his fingers through his hair, the Doctor sighed. This could take a while.

Drocina entered the conference room a few minutes later, carrying a large tray of beignets that she'd purchased from Café Du Monde in New Orleans ten minutes prior using Jack's Vortex Manipulator. Since the table was occupied by holograms, she put it on a chair next to the two Time Lords, returning a few minutes later with a platter of fried shrimp. Pleased to see her patient's mouth covered in powdered sugar, the healer sat out of the projector's view near the Doctor. She was interested to hear what her friends and compatriots had to say.

The first five questions all pertained to the threat Earth First posed. The sixth question raised an issue that the Doctor had seemingly overlooked.

"Does this organization know about the TARDIS nursery, Lord Doctor?"

"We have to assume they do," he answered reluctantly. "Several of their leaders are former UNIT personnel."

Melissa shot him a look. They'd have to inform the Council about the threat against the growing TARDISes. Maybe Brax could do it for them. Although she liked Flavia well enough, she really had no desire to be polite to anyone else on the Council.

The next question came from a group of four female Time Lords, who looked somewhat anachronistic dressed as Japanese geishas. Melissa wondered if their costumes were part of their jobs, or if they needed a bit of fashion advice for living in Japan. The spokesperson for the group identified herself as Miko before asking a question that had absolutely nothing to do with Earth First.

"Is it true that the Lady Emissary is pregnant with a human child as well as a Time Lord?"

Turning, Melissa stared accusingly at Drocina, but the young woman vehemently protested her innocence. "I didn't say a thing. I promise."

"Not that it's any of your business," the Doctor answered testily before Melissa could frame a more polite reply, "but, yes, she is."

Miko followed her question with another before the Doctor could silence her. "And is the father the human who was the Fact, the man who saved all of Gallifrey from the Time War?"

Feeling strangely like she was on reality television, Melissa wiped the powdered sugar from her face and nodded. "Jack is the father, and while I understand everyone's natural curiosity, the Doctor is right. This is none of your business. If you were on Gallifrey, such a question would have been considered highly insulting. In fact, feuds between Houses have started over less."

From somewhere in the crowd of miniature holograms, a male voice boomed out. "But we're not on Gallifrey, are we? And, we don't understand the reason behind all these stupid rules we keep hearing about. You constantly tell us how noble the Time Lord Council is, Lord Doctor, but how can you continue do to so knowing that your own brother is using the High Council to attempt to have you and the Emissary declared renegades?"

"He's what?" the Doctor asked, the anger in his voice plain to hear.

The holograms on the table parted as a compact, dark skinned man who appeared to be in his early forties walked to the front of the crowd. He was wearing a grey three piece suit and pink tie, and his head was shaved. He also appeared to be the appointed spokesman of the group.

"The Lady Flavia informed some of us late last night, Lord Doctor, that Lord Braxiatel returned to the High Council incensed not only due to the fact that the Emissary was carrying a human fetus, but that the two of you share a psychic bond with the father, identified as the current leader of Torchwood. He became so heated in his attempts to have the cardinals declare you renegades that the Lord President was forced to evict him from the meeting before the motion could be put to a vote. The Lady Flavia also informed us that only Chancellor Amathow supported his case, and that the motion was defeated five to one. We do not understand how our own people can be so intolerant."

Melissa recognized him as the Time Lord who had regenerated after Weevils had attacked a cinema in Cardiff. "Lord Bruno," she acknowledged formally. "While we are both saddened by this news, I think it only proves the Doctor's case. The High Council debated, voted and rightly rejected his proposal. I understand your upset, but the institution as a whole is sound."

"They have not stripped him of his office," he argued.

"Nor should they," the Doctor answered with a snap. "He voiced his opinion, and his motion was rejected. He cannot be punished solely because his view is unpopular. If the Council did that, then the High Lord President would be no better than a dictator."

There was a mumbling of agreement before a female Time Lord who looked no older than eighteen gathered her courage to interrupt. "Many of us do not understand the prejudice against the lesser species, Doctor. We grew up on Earth. Granted, much of that time was spent apart from the humans, but they were willing to give us a home when ours was lost. Lord Braxiatel took refuge with the humans when Lord Borusa's persecutions became too harsh. How can he now renounce you and the Emissary for mating with the one human who was instrumental in saving Gallifrey from the Moment?"

Resisting the urge to pace and run his fingers through his hair, the Doctor resolutely faced the camera. This was his one chance to make the young Time Lords understand the attitudes of their older kinsman.

"One, the lesser species, specifically humans, are often their own worst enemy. They can act without thinking, with little regard of the consequences of such actions. The Council has always had a strict policy of noninterference, unless such actions affect the Web of Time. Unfortunately, that has happened all too often, and many members of the Council regard humans as nothing more than the scourge of the universe."

"Two, humans cannot sense time like we do. They live in the present, with hardly a thought to the past or future. To a Time Lord who has not lived among them, they can seem primitive indeed."

"B," he started, only to have Melissa roll her eyes at him. "Better known as three, their life spans are quite short. To love a human is to embrace the pain of loss. Not many are willing to do that, and, frankly, I don't blame them."

"And, finally, four, "My brother, and many like him, cannot understand why Emma and I have not already returned to Gallifrey, and therefore unnecessarily blame our human friends for our decision. The knowledge that I killed my own race, no matter that you escaped or that Jack and Emma ultimately saved the rest, still weighs heavily on my conscience. While Gallifrey will always be my home, I'm not sure I could live there permanently after what I was forced to do. Brax doesn't understand this, but I hope, in time, he will."

Having their complete attention, he took time to make a case for their return home. "You have lost much in your short lives—your homes, your families, your heritage. And, yes, Earth has been more than generous in welcoming our kind, Earth First notwithstanding. However, you are Time Lords, not humans. Gallifrey is your home, and while your parents were casualties of the Time War, you don't have to be."

"Bruno, your mother and father were Pyrodians, just like me. The entire House would celebrate your arrival. Isarra, you have an uncle who grows food for the Citadel. He would welcome your help. Vared, your father commanded a squadron of Battle TARDISes. His surviving officers would treat you like a son."

Pausing again to look at the projector directly, the Doctor made an impassioned plea. "Our people stand at a great nexus. In rebuilding, we can choose to go forward and become more than we ever thought possible, or we can isolate ourselves even further, hiding in tradition and myth until another race like the Daleks decide we are irrelevant and simply in their way. Whether you acknowledge it or not, much of that decision rests on your shoulders.

"Many of your friends have already left for home. No doubt they have told you that life is harsh and the rebuilding slow. But, think of the impact you could have by joining the effort to restore Gallifrey to its former glory. There is the need for teachers, artists, scientists, craftsmen, and yes, even public servants. I cannot make this decision for you, and if you choose to stay on Earth, know that I will most certainly understand. But, if you have ever looked for a purpose in your short life, you will never find another with a higher impact. You are Time Lords, and your people need you."

Having said that, he cut the transmission to look sheepishly at his wife. "Too much?"

"Only when you mentioned restoring Gallifrey to its former glory," she assured him with a wry smile. Ignoring Drocina's presence, she went on to complain. "Brax took a chance denouncing us publically like that. What if Romana had sided with Amathow?"

"I think it's brilliant," the Doctor countered. "He basically circumvented the whole fraternization charge with that vote, and he reminded the Council that Jack gave up his immortality, not to mention his life for the survival of our race. They can't help but find him worthy. By the time our son is born, I bet Brax has Jack and the boy officially declared citizens of Gallifrey."

"I'm sorry," Drocina broke in, confused by the turn of events. "But, are you saying that your brother's denunciation of you, the Emissary and Captain Harkness was not genuine, but a ploy in order to have your bond accepted by the Council?"

"Yep," the Doctor said proudly, loudly popping the 'p' for effect.

"And, did you know he was going to do this?"

"Nope." The pleased expression remained on his face. "But, I'm not terribly surprised. Brax is a brilliant tactician, even if he does restrict his battles to the Panopticon. I just hope he can plausibly affect a change of heart before Emma gives birth. I don't want to have to sneak him into Cardiff to see his niece and nephew."

Cutting off the healer's next question, he kissed Melissa goodbye. "I promise we'll be back soon. It's just a trip to the moon. What could possibly go wrong?"

Waltzing out, he was practically whistling with optimism. Melissa watched him leave with a resigned expression on her face. "He would have to say that, wouldn't he?"

Still reeling from her first behind the scenes look at Gallifreyan politics, Drocina nevertheless managed to remember the primary reason she had entered the conference room. "You should finish the beignets and the shrimp. Captain Harkness suggested you might like something different for a change."

"He was right," she replied cheerily as she inwardly cringed at the amount of food she was expected to consume. Picking up another beignet, she took a bite, wishing Drocina would just disappear and take the fried shrimp with her.

Feeling much more comfortable around the Emissary than she ever could with the Doctor, Drocina asked for clarification of the Time Lord's speech.

"Is it really that important for us to return to Gallifrey? The Doctor has spent much of his life off world, and to hear Lady Flavia, no one seemed to mind. In fact, he got into the most trouble whenever he returned."

"Yes, Drocina, it is important that the students eventually return. Gallifrey was almost destroyed by the last Dalek attack. The Doctor did not employ the Moment until all other possibilities were lost, and by then, much of our infrastructure was in ruins. Worst of all, the people had lost hope. When Arcadia fell and they thought their children dead, they believed their future had died as well."

"Do you remember rescuing us now, Emissary? Or did the trauma of your many regenerations erase that permanently from your mind?"

"I remember," she admitted quietly. "It was chaos. Even now, with my mind as impaired as it is, I can remember the feel of the time bombs as they burrowed underground. It was almost indescribable, like riding a tilt-a-whirl on a full stomach with your mouth taped shut while being crushed under the deepest ocean. The children, all of you, were terrified, and we could hear your screams as we fought to override the deadlock seals that had automatically secured the bunkers. I entrusted Brax and Flavia with the Time Lord young, while I took it upon myself to evacuate the Arcadian children to Verona, where their new guardians were waiting."

"Why didn't you take us to Verona as well? Surely, that would have been safer than taking us back to Gallifrey?"

Putting down a half-eaten beignet, Melissa stared at the door in the hope that someone would walk through it and put an end to the conversation. When no one did, she grudgingly faced her young inquisitor.

"There are races in this galaxy and beyond who know the capabilities of a Time Lord only too well. If they had discovered a group of undefended Gallifreyan children, they would have ripped Verona apart to get to you. Can you imagine the Krillitanes using the imagination of even one of you to crack the Skasis paradigm? Or a Sontaran Battle Fleet gaining the ability to anticipate a Rutan attack? Or for that matter, how many unscrupulous people would have dissected the lot of you just to attempt to gain control of your regeneration cycles? I couldn't leave any of you to face such horrors alone. And, I had some faith that Lord Rassilon would be successful in carrying out his plan to save us all." Bitterly, she added, "I simply didn't realize his plan was quite so cold or complex."

"Do you ever regret saving us, Emissary?"

Cumbersomely, Melissa got out of her chair to stand in front of the seated young woman. With a sad little smile, she took out the elastic that held her topknot in place and moved behind her to braid her long, black hair.

"I don't regret saving you or any of the other children, Drocina. Burning through so many regenerations, and yes, even Borusa's cruelty, were a small price to pay for your safety."

Finishing the braid, she secured it with the elastic, and then affectionately patted the healer's head. "There, that's better." Warmly, she met the young woman's eyes. "You alone would have been worth the effort. Your mother would have been so proud. Kora was a healer as well, you know."

"My teachers never mentioned it, although they never seemed all that surprised when I announced my intent to be a healer at a very young age." Wistfully, she added, "I wish I could remember her. Sometimes, I think I remember the scratch of my father's whiskers as he held me, but I can't recall my mother at all."

"I'm sorry."

She shrugged. "It is all I have ever known." Embarrassed, she glanced down and noticed the still overflowing platter of shrimp. "You really should eat that."

Resignedly, she sat down to do as her physician had ordered, trying her best to forget all of the painful memories the girl's questions had laid bare.

As soon as she had finished eating, Melissa decided on a change of scenery. It was too lonely in the conference room with her memories of the War in the forefront of her mind. She needed a diversion.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Have you found anything yet?"

Donna watched Melissa push back in the new recliner, wondering how much to tell her. Mickey, however, didn't see any reason to shield her from the truth. "Yeah. We've figured out that Earth First doesn't have a problem using alien tech. Donna says their computer is too sophisticated for the time period. We haven't been able to track it down, but it's left a very distinctive signature any time it hijacks another server to use as a temporary host. Must of come through the Rift or something."

Far from being troubled, Melissa was intrigued. "How sophisticated are we talking about? Could it self-aware? Like Sarah Jane's Xyloc?"

"Might be," he acknowledged. "Why? You got something in mind?"

"If the computer's self-aware, Mr. Smith might be able to track it down and persuade it to help us."

"And if it's not?"

Donna, who thought Melissa's plan was brilliant, answered enthusiastically. "Then we'd know and that would narrow it down. Besides, it's not like we're going to tie up our server trying, is it?"

"Got a point there, Donna. You want to call Sarah Jane, Melissa?"

Already pulling out her mobile, she enthusiastically agreed, but then her expression clouded. "Have you heard from the Doctor or Jack?"

"I doubt they've had time to do much more than put their spacesuits on. We'll tell you the minute we here from the, Spacegirl."

"Can I hear the signal?"

"It's not in range, sorry."

"Oh. I'll call Sarah Jane, then. And work on Jack's reports. Might as well make myself useful."

Mickey watched her walk awkwardly up the stairs to Jack's office. "She shouldn't be here, Donna."

"Then you tell me where she should be, Mickey."

Taken aback that Donna hadn't simply agreed, he shrugged. "Don't know. Someplace safe? Martha's told me how the Doctor was after he lost Rose. How do you think he's gonna be if something happened to her, especially now? And, not just the Doctor, Jack, too."

Unusually quiet, Donna continued working on her keyboard. Just when Mickey thought she wasn't going to reply, she spoke sorrowfully without looking up. "If you ever find that place, you tell me, Mickey, 'cause the Doctor and Jack would like to know where it is."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sitting at Jack's desk, Melissa temporarily ignored the recliner with the purported massage feature as she skimmed the reports she had offered to summarize. No wonder he'd been putting it off; there wasn't anything remotely interesting in the stack. Putting them aside, she pulled out her mobile to call Sarah Jane Smith.

Her friend answered on the fifth ring. "Sarah Jane? Hi, it's Melissa. Is this a good time?"

It was. Her friend was baking a cake for Clyde Langer's birthday and had some time to chat. Melissa requested Mr. Smiths' services straight away, and then the two women spent the next twenty minutes discussing the trials of raising teenagers. Sarah Jane had to end the call when her oven timer rang, but she promised to contact her once Mr. Smith had made the attempt.

Returning her attention to the reports on the desk, Melissa noted with disappointment that most were nothing more than routine updates to the planet's threat assessment. Most of those were old enough to be outdated, and she pitched them into the incinerator pile without a qualm. Ten others required lengthy summaries, which she typed up and printed out for Jack's perusal, but nothing really held her interest.

Finished, she glanced at the recliner. This one did have buttons on the right armrest. Settling in, her curiosity got the better of her and she began to experiment with the different settings. She hated to admit it, but Jack was right. The massage settings were amazing.

"I told you you'd want to spend time in my office, Sleeping Beauty."

Opening her eyes, Melissa found Jack kneeling next to the recliner, a smug expression on his face. Sheepishly, she sat up, embarrassed to have been caught napping at work.

"It's a nice chair," she admitted before remembering that Jack had been on a trip to the moon with the Doctor and Ianto. "Who was sending the signal?"

Helping her stand, he wrapped her in a hug. "Taggers," he answered with a grin. "We caught them putting another beacon about a mile away. You should have heard the lecture the Doc gave them about tagging the satellite of a level five planet. My ears are still blistered."

"Did Ianto like his spacewalk?"

Pulling out his phone, he showed her a picture of Ianto planting a Welsh flag on the surface on the moon. "He was hopping around like he was in one of those bouncy castles he was so excited. I think Mr. Jones missed his calling."

When she didn't smile, he studied her as best he could without being too obvious. She looked to be nine months pregnant for a human, but Drocina had informed them that she was going to get bigger. Prominent blue veins crisscrossed her near translucent skin, making her look more alien in the sundress she wore than her two hearts ever could. There were black smudges underneath her eyes that no makeup could conceal. Her stance was unbalanced, her gait awkward. And, he thought she was the most beautiful woman in the galaxy.

"Why don't we find the Doctor and go out for lunch? Sarah Jane called to report that Mr. Smith was unable to make contact with the Earth First computer. We're confident it's not sentient, but I'm afraid that means having to crack a very sophisticated code. It's going to take a while."

"Weren't the shrimp and beignets lunch?"

"Mid morning snack," he answered with a grin until he saw the distressed look. "Hey, I promise you won't have to eat more than you can stomach. I know this is difficult, but you're doing great, Sweetheart."

"I just want it all to be over."

"You're halfway there," he promised, not sure if she could comprehend that concept.

Taking comfort in his tone of voice rather than the meaning behind the words, she leaned against his shoulder. "I could do with some sunshine. Is it nice out?"

"It's a perfect summer day. Come on, let's find the Doctor and get out of the Bat Cave for a while."

When he put it like that, she couldn't help but smile.


	19. Surprises

Author's Note - Less information in this chapter, and some pure and simple fluff. Don't worry, they'll be plenty of drama and angst in the next chapter. I've noticed I'm still getting more hits on my last story than the new one, so a sincere thank you to everyone who's reading this one! Hope you enjoy.

* * *

><p>"Hello, Emma."<p>

Breaking into a pleased grin, Melissa opened the front door wide to throw her arms around her oldest friend, overlooking the outlandish sequined jumpsuit she was wearing. "Flavia! It's so good to see you. What are you doing here?"

I was checking on the security of the TARDIS nursery, and couldn't leave Earth without seeing you. You look radiant. That blue sundress really suits you."

Inviting her inside, Melissa led her into the immaculately clean den. "Would you like something to drink? Jack and the Doctor are out back. They've decided to cook a ridiculous amount of chicken. Even I couldn't eat a quarter of it."

"No thank you," she replied politely. Then, feigning interest, she asked, "Do you think they've cooked enough for me? I haven't had any food prepared over an open flame since I left that parallel Earth."

"We'd love for you to stay." She answered with enthusiasm, unwittingly welcoming the first guest to her surprise baby shower into their home.

Over the course of the next hour, friends continued to ring the doorbell, most carrying platters of food. By the time Sarah Jane appeared with the Brigadier and Luke, Melissa knew something was up. When Gwen and Rhys appeared fifteen minutes later, she knew that it had all been planned, but she believed that the Doctor and Jack had organized an impromptu gathering so she wouldn't feel obligated to do any extra housework.

As she invited Donna inside, Melissa heard the unmistakable sound of a TARDIS materializing upstairs. Excusing herself, she warily walked up the stairs, unsure of whom she would find.

Stepping out of his TARDIS, Brax held a wrapped gift in his hand. "Hello, Sis."

Her astonishment was such that she didn't even notice the package as she warmly embraced him. "Brax! It's so good to see you! The Doctor and I have missed you so much."

"Sorry about that, Emma. I've had to play a dangerous game. If Amathow were to discover my anger at you two is all a sham, there'd be hell to pay. I couldn't miss your baby shower, though, could I?"

"This is a baby shower?"

He apologized as he led her downstairs. "Yes, Donna arranged it, although Drocina decided it would be better for the guests to come to you. You will at least pretend to be surprised, won't you?"

"Of course I will. I wouldn't want to disappoint anyone."

Hastily, she wiped away happy tears as she walked downstairs. She was so lucky to have such wonderful friends. Rejoining the group of women, she let Martha lead her to yet another recliner that Jack had purchased as Brax made his way to the back garden and the men outside. Sitting down, she asked the Torchwood medic how her family was doing.

"Mum and Dad are renewing their vows next week. I'm going to take Mickey along with me and introduce him to my family."

"Oh, ho," Donna remarked gleefully. "It must be going well if you're going to let Francine take a swipe at him. Should we look for a ring on your finger any time soon?"

"It's not like that," Martha protested. "And, what do you mean, take a swipe at him? You aren't channeling the Doctor's memories again, are you Donna? Mum had every reason to be leery of him with the M—Saxon's men whispering in her ear."

Melissa did her best to ignore Martha's unintended slip; she hated any and all reminders of the psychotic Time Lord. "I don't know why everyone's so scared of Francine. I talked to her once, and she seemed very nice after she knew who I was."

"You talked to Mum? When? She never told me."

Melissa didn't want to remind Gwen of Jack's imprisonment and all that had followed, so she kept her explanation brief. "I called her on the phone once. When I told her my name, she asked me the color of my hair. After that, she was very nice."

"You should meet her sometime," Martha said impulsively. "It might help her knowing someone else remembers."

"I could do that, I think," she replied quietly. "I can't pretend it didn't happen, much as I wish I could."

The other women suspected that they were missing something important, but Donna swiftly changed the subject before they could become too curious. "So, Melissa, have the three of you agreed on names yet? Or are you waiting until the twins are born?"

"We haven't discussed it."

"Not once?" Gwen asked, shocked. "Rhys and I talk about it almost every day. Change our minds about that often, too."

"Well, if everything goes as planned, the seer will tell us our daughter's name, and we'll just have to shorten it. I do have a favorite for our son, but I'm waiting to spring it on the Doc and Jack when they're feeling very indulgent. I'm not sure how either one of them will react."

"Spill," Donna demanded, intensely curious.

Reddening, Melissa confessed, "Actually, I was thinking of naming him Owen."

Patting her arm, Gwen assured her that was a wonderful idea before running to the kitchen to have a good cry. Having heard all about Owen from Melissa, Sarah Jane quietly excused herself to console Gwen. Martha, too, appeared to tear up, but refused to acknowledge her reaction.

"Don't know about the Doctor, but I think Jack would like that."

"Dr. Harper was a very competent physician," Drocina noted gravely. "I study his notes often. Naming your child after him would be a very fitting tribute."

"Yes, it would, sweetheart," Donna assured Melissa gently. "And, if the Doctor protests, you just send him to me, and I'll get him sorted."

"As for that," Flavia added with a chuckle, "if you need help persuading him, send him to me. There are still a few tales from his Academy days that I didn't share with the students—with good reason. It's always a good idea to leave a little something for a spot of blackmail."

That led to a discussion of Melissa and the Doctor's school days. By the time Gwen and Sarah Jane had returned, Flavia was telling everyone about the time the Doctor had accidently dyed Melissa's hair purple in a chemistry experiment gone hilariously wrong.

"You should have seen the Emissary for the next month as she tried to pretend nothing was amiss. She wore headscarves almost every day, and when she didn't, her hair was tucked into the most ridiculous hat."

"It was a top hat," Melissa explained with a chuckle. "I know I should have shaved my head. It would have grown back the right color, but I was vain enough to hope the purple would simply rinse away. It didn't. I had to bleach it out, and then it was the most horrid green."

"I think I would have killed him," Gwen remarked between peals of laughter.

"Oh, I took my revenge, don't worry."

As Donna buried her face in her hands, Sarah Jane smiled. "The Doctor put in his place? This we've got to hear."

"I made his room dimensionally transcendental! Then, I set the corridors on random. He was lost . . . ." Stopping, she looked at Flavia, perplexed.

"For three days," her friend finished for her without missing a beat. "He wandered inside his room for three days before he remembered his Earth history and used a ball of twine to mark his progress. When he came out, he was exhausted and famished, but, to be fair, he never once accused the Emissary of playing tricks. He told Borusa that he'd become stuck in a time loop during a temporal experiment. Since he was always blowing something up in the labs, Borusa had no problem believing him. Still, his detention didn't last as long as your horrid hair, Emissary."

"I didn't mind," Melissa reminisced. "He felt so badly for what he had done, he started writing odes to my auburn hair. He's always wanted to be ginger, you know, but he never has."

As Martha begged to hear a recitation of the Doctor's poetry, Drocina noticed Brax walking to the kitchen to fix himself a drink. Unobtrusively, she followed him.

Pulling a bottle of Pepsi out of the refrigerator, Brax testily informed the healer, "I did as you asked. I ruined the surprise. Now are you going to tell my why you would request such a thing, Drocina?"

Standing as far away from the Doctor's brother as politeness allowed, the young healer swallowed a gulp. She might be used to the Doctor and the Emissary, but the man before her was still quite intimidating. "With approximately nine weeks until the birth, I cannot predict how her body would have reacted to that much adrenaline. Surely you've noticed how frail she appears."

"Emma? Frail? All I noticed was her stomach, to tell you the truth. It's difficult to hug her properly these days with the babies bulging outwards."

Biting back a sarcastic retort, the young woman opened a pint. "As I have reported to you more than once, Lord Braxiatel, your bond sister's health is precarious. She requires constant monitoring to ensure sufficient caloric intake. Most women at her stage of pregnancy have full cheeks and at least ten to twenty pounds that they will have to work to lose once their baby is born. The Emissary, however, is leaner than she has a right to be, the size of her stomach notwithstanding."

"Do you think she'll have to deliver on Gallifrey, then? Because I'd appreciate knowing now. I'll need time to prepare our allies, and enemies, for that matter."

"I don't anticipate the need at this time, Lord Braxiatel."

"Then we have nothing more to discuss." Grabbing a ginger beer for his brother, he coolly walked outside.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Irving Braxiatel found that people would say almost anything in front of him as long as he didn't talk too much. It was gift or curse that he and his brother shared. And, he found the conversations taking place in the back garden highly informative that particular afternoon.

Most of it centered on Earth First. Feigning disinterest, he soaked up every word. He wasn't impressed with the humans' investigative techniques. They seemed to obey far too many needless rules about the right to privacy and illegal search and seizure. Torchwood wasn't doing much more than a computer search, and it was on the tip of his tongue to offer to abduct the hate group's founder to employ more persuasive techniques. But, the Doctor shot him a warning look just when the conversation turned promising, and he prudently kept his mouth shut. Unfortunately, his brother was no fan of his particular brand of coercion, no matter how justified.

The discussion inevitably wandered to babies and families, and he stayed silent for an entirely different reason. He'd never been tempted to bond with anyone; there'd never been a woman, or man for that matter, whom he trusted completely. The thought that someone might be able to see into his soul was disturbing in the extreme. Of course, that didn't preclude the possibility of offspring, but he'd never considered that a priority, either.

He did note with no little surprise that Captain Harkness and his brother appeared to be genuinely pleased at the prospect of becoming fathers. They'd not in reality been given a choice in the matter, and before today, he'd expected some sign of reluctance from both of them. His brother even spoke easily of Athena and Susan, proudly regaling the group with a few tales of their numerous accomplishments. He was glad; the Doctor had rarely spoken of his daughter after her death, and once the War started, Susan had become a forbidden topic as well. It was nice to hear their names on his tongue once more.

As the conversation progressed, Brax decided that there was an undercurrent of fear to the Captain's anticipation and resolved to find out why. Interrogating the Brigadier would have been foolhardy. Even if the man knew the reason for Harkness' apprehension, he wasn't likely to let it slip, and no doubt would have reported the line of inquiry to the Doctor, if not the Captain himself. Rhys Williams was connected to Torchwood solely by marriage, and therefore might not be privy to the information at all. Mickey Smith had been studying him the entire afternoon, in all probability comparing his character to his brother's. Unfortunately, he could tell by Mr. Smith's expression that he had been found somewhat lacking. And, Ianto Jones had excused himself the minute the subject of children had come up. That left the adolescent, Luke Smith, whom he dismissed as being too young. With a sigh, he decided to go direct to the source.

Jack had temporary grill duty while the Doctor was inside helping Donna sneak a particularly large cake into the kitchen. The others were listening to the Brigadier as he recalled the Doctor's days at UNIT. It was the perfect opportunity to speak to the Captain alone.

Brax didn't mince words. "Why are you so fearful when discussing impending fatherhood?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," he answered stiffly.

"Yes, you do, even if you won't admit it. Every statement of yours begins with a qualifier. If everything goes alright, we'll have to buy a bigger car. I hope the delivery goes well. I guess we'll have to start thinking of some names. Would you like me to continue?"

"Not really."

Ignoring Jack's response, he continued accusingly. "From your speech patterns, one might get the idea that you know something about my bond sister's pregnancy that the rest of us do not."

Clenching his fists, Jack replied tersely. "One would be wrong."

"Oh, come on, Captain," Brax needled. "You're always so confident. Surely, you have a reason for all those doubts. Or, do you subconsciously hope that something does go wrong?"

Jack telegraphed his punch, which is the only reason Brax avoided a bloody lip and possibly a few loose teeth. Rubbing his cheek, he almost made a sarcastic comment about the Captain's pugilistic skills, but the look of pure venom in his antagonist's eyes stopped him.

"I don't appreciate you trying to psychoanalyzing me, Irving. My supposed feelings are my own business. Stop sticking your nose where it doesn't belong!"

Knowing that he had an audience, he kept his answer civil, and much quieter than Jack's. "My mistake. It won't happen again. If you'll excuse me, I think I'll get cleaned up before lunch is served."

His strategic retreat was blocked by his brother, who had witnessed everything from the back door. "That was particularly stupid of you, Brax. Don't make the same mistake twice."

"My only mistake was to think Captain Harkness could keep his temper in check. He really does wear a chip on his shoulder."

"He's scared," the Doctor impatiently explained. "He's terrified of losing another child, but he hides it the best he can. You're lucky he was nice enough to telegraph his punch."

"I didn't realize. Although, I should have, knowing the man's penchant for shagging anything that moves. He must have a dozen or more children by now."

Unconsciously, the Doctor tightened his fists, much like Jack had done. "I'm going to tell you something that I shouldn't, and if you ever let on that you know to Jack or Melissa, I'll do much more than hit your cheek. They had another child, in an alternate reality created by a Time Beetle. She was a Time Lord, but she was born with a hole in one of her hearts. Joy only lived four days. And, no matter how many times Drocina assures us all that the fetuses are developing normally, Jack can't shake the feeling that something will go wrong this time."

Instead of being remorseful for his actions, Brax grew belligerent. "And, he couldn't just tell me this himself?"

"Why should he?" the Doctor retorted. "He knows you don't trust him. Why should he confide in you?"

For once, he didn't have an answer. "I've got to wash up."

"Fine, just remember what I said, and try to keep a civil tongue today. I don't want anything to mar Emma's surprise. She hasn't had many happy ones lately."

Brax pushed past his brother without commenting, although when he returned, he sat as far away from Jack as he could, and kept his mouth shut. No one saw fit to mention the incident to the women inside.

After a hearty lunch eaten on picnic tables squeezed into the small, but tidy back garden, everyone quickly retrieved their presents to surprise Melissa with a baby shower. She acted shocked and embarrassed enough to fool everyone but Brax and Drocina. As the guests crowded into the den, Donna insisted that Melissa put her feet up in the recliner.

Pulling a card out of the pastel gift sack, Melissa read it to herself. "This is from Martha." Dutifully, Donna wrote Martha's name down in the baby book she'd insisted on purchasing.

As Melissa pulled out matching pink and blue crocheted baby booties, oohs and aahs could be heard from all the women. By this time, most of the men were wishing they could have skipped the shower itself; baby booties held little interest for them. Standing at the back of they room, they watched with polite boredom and ate their cake.

Almost an hour later, Melissa opened the last gift, a stack of children's picture books from the Brigadier. She wouldn't admit it out loud, but she was exhausted. While she hadn't been allowed to act as hostess, the simple act of talking to everyone for an entire afternoon had taxed her greatly.

Standing up, she hoped they would take a polite hint. "Thank you, everyone. I really don't know what to say. This has been a wonderful party, even better that it was a surprise, although I should have known something was up when the Doctor started cleaning."

Smiling at him from across the room, she put as much force as she could into the thought that she'd really, really like everyone to go home. She wasn't sure if he heard her or merely read the expression on her face, but he soon added his thanks to hers, unsubtly wishing them a safe trip home.

The Brigadier was the first to take the hint, leaning heavily on his cane to slowly stand up. "Well, Ms. Smith, I don't know about you, but I think that's our cue to leave. What do you say, Luke?"

"Thank you for inviting me, Doctor, Captain Harkness. I had a very nice time, and I hope your children like the music Mum and I picked out, Ms. Morgan." Then, shyly, he said, "And it was very nice to meet you, Drocina. I enjoyed discussing physics with you."

Leaning close to Melissa, Donna whispered, "Aw, I think Luke has a crush."

Ignoring her friend, she gave Sarah Jane, Luke and the Brigadier hugs and thanked them once again for making the trip from London. Their leave started a mass exodus, and within twenty minutes, all the guests, including Brax and Flavia, were out the door.

As soon as she had closed the door on Donna, Melissa leaned heavily against it. "That was really nice, but I'm exhausted. I'm going to bed."

Concerned, both men offered to accompany her, but she argued that they could be more useful cleaning up the mess inside and out. Trudging up the stairs, she lay down, intending to get up and change into her nightgown after a short rest. When the Doctor and Jack walked into the bedroom three hours later, they found her lying on top of the duvet, still wearing her navy sundress. Debating for a moment, they quickly decided to leave her like she was, carefully positioning themselves around her so as not to wake her up.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Reading the morning paper, Melissa watched with interest as her bond brother's TARDIS parked itself in the den. When he appeared, she stood up to greet him. "Brax! It's good to see you! The Doctor and I have missed you!"

"Hey, I was here day before yesterday; you couldn't have missed me that much."

Instantly, he regretted the joke. Her nose wrinkled in incomprehension while her smile drooped. Studying her, he hated to admit that the young healer was right. Her cheekbones were much too prominent for a pregnant woman, and bare arms were spindly. Her robe barely covered her distended stomach; he wondered how much bigger she could get. He didn't like seeing the strain of her pregnancy so blatantly written on her body.

"I missed you too," he continued kindly, hugging her as best he could.

"Do you want some tea?"

Leading her into the kitchen, he pulled out a chair so she could sit. "Let me make the tea."

"Thank you for the mobile. It looks just like the one we used for Athena."

"It is the one you used for Athena. I had some of my operatives go through your attic. If you insist on exiling yourself here, I thought you might as well have something from home."

That fact almost brought her to tears, but she managed to hold them back. "Thank you, Brax. That means a lot to me. I never intended to be an exile. It's just, Jack is human, and I don't want him to feel isolated on Gallifrey. Besides, our son is human too. Do you really think people will accept him?"

"I think, Sis, that you underestimate yourself and the Doctor. You could bring a Jacolian home with you, and the people would accept it. Besides, much as it pains me to say it, I'm working very hard to get Captain Harkness named an honorary citizen of Gallifrey. I think one more diatribe against him in front of the entire Council, and public opinion will be so overwhelming that Romana will be forced to make the gesture."

She was touched that he cared so much, but the mention of Romana's name brought a sly smile to her face. "So, is your relationship with the Lord President strictly sexual, or do you have real feelings for Romana?"

He silently prepared a pot of steaming Earl Gray tea, temporarily avoiding the question. After handing her a mug, he remarked ruefully, "Flavia really can't keep her mouth shut, can she?"

"She can when it matters. While I don't particularly like Romana, for obvious reasons, I don't think it would be fair to use her as a means to an end."

"I'm not," he promised, admitting something most of the High Council would have paid dearly to know. "I genuinely care for Romana, although I think she uses me as stress relief more than anything else. She seems uncommonly tense these days. So, have no fear. In this, she's the one in control, not me."

"Good."

Sipping his tea, Brax couldn't help the jibe. "So, how is the Boy Scout? Still helping little old ladies deal with whatever the Rift spits out?"

"I've never been a Boy Scout—and neither have you." Leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen, Jack patted down his wet hair, deciding to ignore their last encounter, at least while Melissa was present. "But I've been known to help little old ladies cross the street."

"And young ones, too, I imagine."

"That's enough, Brax," the Doctor called out as he strode in the kitchen, buttoning up his shirt. "Not that I'm not happy to see you, but is there a reason you're here?"

"You mean, besides the excellent tea?" Growing serious, he announced, "The Council's finally voted. All the students who have decided to remain on Earth will be granted dual citizenship."

"And us?"

"They are not granting you the same privileges, although it amounts to much the same thing. You've both been appointed as ambassadors to Earth."

"So they can still recall us."

"A minor point," Brax tried to argue, but the Doctor wasn't too sure.

"Hardly minor. We're still at their beck and call, unless we want to be declared renegade." Taking a look at Melissa, he added, "Which at this point, we are unwilling to do."

"Believe me; they won't recall you, Doc. They're afraid of what might happen if you do."

"Perhaps it's time for new elections. Gallifrey's been under martial law for far too long."

"While that might sound easy, with no opposition leader to take control, there's a fear that we'd be giving in to anarchy. No one wants to see rioting in the streets."

"Surely there's someone the people will support."

"Yes, two in fact, but they're currently living on Earth."

"No," the Doctor warned, unwilling to discuss the prospect. "There must be someone else the people could rally behind."

"No one else has emerged as of yet. I get approached daily by scores of people begging for your and Emma's return, especially now."

"Brax—"

"Don't worry. I've been telling them that you're tending to the students who are too traumatized to return home. No one is going to appoint you president in absentia."

"That hasn't stopped anyone before."

His brother actually smiled. "No, it hasn't. But, don't worry, Bro. I have the situation well in hand."

"That's what I'm afraid of," he grumbled, but there was a hint of gratitude in his eyes. Then, he asked far too casually, "What does Flavia say about all this?"

"She doesn't want the presidency anymore than you two, but I will speak to her again. Perhaps I can change her mind."

"There's the spirit!"

Draining his mug, Brax shook his head. "You really are incorrigible, you know."

"What else are little brothers for?"

"I certainly wouldn't know. If you'll excuse me, I've got to get back before I'm missed."

As his TARDIS disappeared, Jack turned to the Doctor. "Is it me, or was your brother actually nice for a change?"

"He was being nice," Melissa confirmed. "He told me that he's close to getting you named an honorary citizen."

Dumping coffee grounds into the coffee pot, Jack grimaced. "I don't know whether to be flattered or scared."

"Both are appropriate reactions," the Doctor quipped.

"I hope he succeeds," Melissa said quietly, stunning the two men. "I'd like to go back to Gallifrey for a visit. It seems silly to say this, but I miss the estate. Did you know that was Athena's mobile that Brax gave us? He said he sent some of his people into the attic to find it. Do you think they could find her cot?"

"Of course they can. Should have thought of that before. Is there anything else you would like, Em?"

"No, but it would be nice to have the cot, don't you think?"

"Yes," Jack answered for them both, and then put a large bowl of ice cream in front of her. "Eat this while I fix your pancakes. Drocina said you needed more sugar in the mornings."

"Great," she sarcastically enthused.

As she took a bite, she did her best not to cry. She ate when she was hungry. She ate when she wasn't. She ate when she was told to. She ate until she thought she'd pop. And still she felt so tired that it was difficult to get out of bed.

Sitting next to her, the Doctor watched her force herself to eat as he felt her grow ever more pensive. "Jack and I are very proud of you, you know. You've been very brave through all this."

Finishing, she dropped the spoon into the bowl. "I haven't done anything for you to be proud of, Doc. And, it's very easy to be brave sitting safe in the Hub."

"I wasn't talking about fieldwork, and you know it." He chided her gently, softening his words by taking her hand. "We can feel how difficult this is for you, Em. And, yet, you always strive to be positive. The Captain and I are in awe of your brilliance."

She choked on something that was halfway between a sob and a guffaw and then she shook her head. "You really are something else. I appreciate the sentiment, really, but 'in awe of your brilliance?' You don't think that may have been a little over the top?"

Putting a stack of pancakes topped with fresh blueberries and whipped cream in front of her, Jack lightheartedly broke in. "No. Although I, for one, will be glad once the babies are born and I can be in awe of some of your more physical attributes again."

"You know, I have a hard time even imagining that when I look like a beached starwhale."

"You look incredible." There was no mistaking the genuineness in his tone, and she smiled at him gratefully.

The look of happiness was wiped off her face, however, when the Doctor unintentionally put his foot in it. "The Captain's right, you know. You look fine for someone who's pregnant with twins, Emma. And, you're going shopping today. You can buy a different dress."

Her lips trembled. "What's wrong with my dress?"

Jack was making frantic gestures at the Doctor, but he appeared to be oblivious. "Nothing, for a maternity dress. The color's a bit harsh with your pallor, but I'm sure you'll find something more suitable today. I'm surprised the TARDIS hasn't found more becoming clothes for you, actually."

He only realized his mistake when she burst into tears. Horrified at his thoughtlessness, he immediately reached out to her, but Jack had her encased in his arms. She cried for several minutes, the Doctor frantically apologizing all the while.

Finally, Jack calmed her enough so she could eat her breakfast. "You are beautiful, Sweetheart. And the Doctor's an ass.

"Oi!"

"Well, you are. Either that or you were possessed in the middle of the night by some alien fashion critic. Which is it?"

Apologetic, the Doctor knelt on the floor and again took Melissa's hand. "I suppose I was being an arse, although I'd rather blame it on alien possession. Jack's right. You are beautiful, and I was a fool to say otherwise. Will you forgive me?"

The corner of her mouth tugged upwards. "Well, since you're groveling so nicely . . . ."

"That's the spirit!" Leaning over, he kissed her in apology. "I really am sorry. I will find a way to make it up to you, I promise."

"Actually, if you could figure out a way to carry the twins so I wouldn't have to, I would appreciate it."

As the Doctor grinned, Jack loudly exclaimed, "I am so not doing that again! You wouldn't believe how long it took for me to lose all that pregnancy weight!"

She covered her face with her hands in mock horror. "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that, Jack. Some things are best left in the past."

"Hey! It's perfectly natural—okay, it's not natural-but it's perfectly acceptable in the fifty-first century. Besides, I was undercover in a men's harem on Gulka Prime. It was strictly for show."

"Gulka Prime? You are so full of it, Jack. The inhabitants of Gulka Prime reproduce asexually until the Great Gender Revolution."

"And who do you think started that revolution?"

She groaned, the Doctor's unthinking comments long forgotten, just as Jack had intended. Taking a bite of her pancakes, she pointed her fork at him. "You're still full of it, Jack Harkness."

Kissing her, he licked some stray whipped cream off her lips. "I've got to go. Ianto and I are going to a conference in London. Would you like me to bring you anything back?"

"Just yourself." Eyes downcast, she mumbled, "I miss you when you're gone."

His heart lurched, and he had to swallow a lump in his throat. If Alistair hadn't requested him specifically, he would have sent Martha in his place. Instead, he kissed her forehead. "I miss you too, you know. I promise I'll be back as soon as I can. In fact, I'll tell Martha to fake an alien invasion if I'm gone too long."

"She'd probably like that." Looking him in the eyes, she did her best to smile. "Go. I'll be fine. I didn't mean to get all clingy like that."

"You know this means I'm bringing you back a surprise."

Straightening her shoulders, she managed a more believable grin. "Why do you think I said it? Now, go, or I'll have to do something really embarrassing just to get a better present."

He snapped a jaunty salute. "Yes, ma'am. Whatever you say, ma'am." Then, giving a nod to the Doctor, he walked quickly out the door so she wouldn't see the pained expression on his face.

The Doctor watched her clean her plate before he sat beside her and took her hand. "I can stay with you until Jack gets back, if that's what you want."

Her positive façade finally crumpled. "I don't know what I want, but I'm not going to turn into some clingy shrew. You both deserve better."

"You aren't a shrew, Em. I know; I've seen my fair share of shrews in my time."

When she didn't smile, he stood up to rub her shoulders. "Say the word, and I'll have the Captain back here in an instant. Missing Alistair's meeting isn't that important in the overall scheme of things."

"I know you both have obligations. I don't want to demand your attention. I don't understand why I've turned into such a wimp."

"You're preg—"

"Don't you dare say I'm pregnant. I'm tired of blaming all my shortcomings on my pregnancy. I'm just so tired!"

"It's alright to be tired," he assured her. "And, you don't have to be brave all the time. No one's going to think less of you if you go back to bed. Gwen can pick you up from home as easily as the Hub this afternoon, and there's nothing that can't wait at work."

Nodding morosely, she let him lead her back to bed. After she had calmed, he called the Hub to let them know he wouldn't be in until the afternoon. An hour later, Donna showed up to check on them both.

Opening the door, he invited her inside. "Emma's sleeping. It was a difficult morning, and it didn't help that I managed to make her feel unattractive."

"You Dumbo," she replied with a slap to his arm. "You should really know better. I hope Mr. Gorgeous was able to smooth her ruffled feathers, or had he already left?"

"Thankfully, he was here, or I don't know what I would have done. Sometimes, I really can't believe what comes out of my mouth."

She agreed a little too quickly. "You can be frightfully rude at times, Sunshine."

"Donna!"

"What? You know it's the truth."

Making herself home in the kitchen, she began to put the dirty dishes in the dishwasher, ordering the Doctor to put away what little food was left on the table. They chatted about her family for a while and then started talking about work. The Rift had deposited another stranch egg in the middle of Cardiff, but this time, they'd been able to contain it quickly enough to freeze it in the vaults. While not a perfect solution, it was better than killing it outright.

The Doctor mentioned Brax's visit as Donna put the dishwasher on to wash. She listened without interrupting, but when he got to the part about being made ambassador, she couldn't hold back.

"Oh, I would have liked to have seen the look on your face! I bet it was priceless! Ambassador, can't get any more respectable than that. Face it, Doctor, your days of traveling like a vagabond are over. You've definitely put down roots."

He protested out of habit, but the thought of living on Earth didn't bother him-far from it. "Never say never, Donna. I'm sure they'll be plenty of opportunities for travel once the children are born."

"You keep telling yourself that." Patting his shoulder in mock sympathy, she picked up her purse. "I've got to run. Mickey's intercepted a file from Earth First that's encrypted with a crylok cipher. I really wish their alphabet didn't have quite so many characters. It's going to take a few days to break the code."

"Good luck. I'll be in if Melissa goes shopping with Gwen. If not, I'll see you tomorrow."

"Whenever she's feeling better, Spaceman. None of us wants her to overdo. Tell her I dropped by to say hello."

"Will do," he promised as he walked her to the door. Once she had left, he returned to the bedroom, sitting beside Melissa for the next few hours as she slept. When she groggily opened her eyes, he smiled brightly at her.

"Feeling better?"

She was surprised to find that she did. "Much. Did I sleep too long?"

"You slept the right amount. Ready for some lunch?"

She grimaced. "No, but I think I can force it down my throat. Once the twins are born, I'm going on a diet."

Smiling, he gently placed his hand on her stomach, feeling the babies kick and poke. "When they're born, you won't have to."

Fifteen minutes later, she was sitting in the same spot at the kitchen table, eating a medium sized pizza and some sticky toffee pudding for dessert. Seven hours after she'd originally gotten out of bed, she was finally ready to face the day.


	20. Earth First

Author's Notes - Hope you got your fill of fluff in the last chapter because it's in short supply here. Part of the chapter describes a Torchwood raid from the perspective of someone listening to it over the comms. The dialogue coming through the comms is written in italics. Let me know if it's too confusing.

Thanks to **dwatlaskrhtcm** and **Kassandra J** for taking the time to review. I really appreciate it.

* * *

><p>"What do you think about this one?"<p>

"For me or you?" Melissa considered the navy shirt that Gwen held out for her.

"Me. I thought you were looking for yourself?"

"I got bored. Nothing's going to look good on me, so it's hard to care."

Gwen held up the shirt in front of her, trying to stay positive. She sympathized with Melissa, even though she'd just gotten to the point where maternity clothes were a necessity. Still, she thought the Time Lord could at least feign interest.

"Pull one out in your size and we'll try them on. Whoever looks best in it, buys it."

Gwen's tactic made shopping much easier, and within two hours, they had both bought comprehensive wardrobes that didn't match at all. Melissa's new clothes consisted of a surprising number of jewel tones, while Gwen's tended to darker shades.

Sacks in hand, they walked to a nearby coffeehouse to celebrate. As they chatted away, both women noticed a young, bookish looking man eyeing them from a vantage point several tables away. He had a laptop, and kept on glancing nervously at it and then at them. They ignored his interest for a while, and then Gwen smiled conspiratorially, leaning a bit closer.

"Do you think he gets off on pregnant women?"

"I hope not," Melissa answered with a theatrical shudder. "He's walking this way."

Swiveling around to get a better look, Gwen saw that the boy-he was too scrawny to think of him as a man-was indeed approaching with a fresh mug of coffee in his hand. Instinctively, her police training kicked in. Most likely a student, she thought as she mentally took note of his clothes and accessories. His trainers were scuffed and dirty, his jeans worn, and his t-shirt stained, but his laptop was fairly new and sophisticated.

She couldn't understand why he stopped at their table. Thinking that he was just another person seemingly fascinated by pregnant women, she was caught completely off guard when he pointed an accusing finger at her friend.

"I recognize you. You're one of those aliens that looks human." As he spoke, his nervousness changed to fanatic zeal, and his voice increased in volume until everyone in the coffee shop could hear his rant. "Well, we don't want your kind here, so you can just go back to whatever hole you crawled out of!"

Shouting now, he faced his unwilling audience. "Look at her! She's breeding, trying to pollute our gene pool with alien DNA! Who knows what monster's growing inside her. I mean, you've seen _Alien_, right? Isn't it bad enough that they've come here, bringing all their shit like the Daleks with them? Do you think we'd have been pulled out of orbit if it wasn't for the likes of them? They should be locked up and dissected, not allowed to mix with us!"

As the man's rant became uglier, Melissa gripped the table, determined not to show her dismay. The reaction of the other customers upset her as much as the hateful tirade. Most had turned away, ashamed to witness something so unpleasant, but unwilling to get involved. As soon as he had mentioned dissecting her, however, a man came to her defense.

He was elderly, bent like a gnarled oak tree, and he wasn't much more than Melissa's height when he stood. His voice, however, cut through the younger man's speech like a sharp blade. The shock that anyone could hold an opinion different from his own temporarily rendered the extremist mute, and suddenly, everyone was listening.

"I don't know if these women are aliens are not. Don't really care much, either. Most of the time, I try to keep out of other people's business, and I expect the same for me. But, you, young man, you're a rabid dog, frothing at the mouth. You think everyone different's a threat. I've met your kind before. I was five when I escaped Nazi Germany on the Kindertransport. My father had disappeared, and my mother promised she'd see me soon. She never did. She died in Buchenwald. So did my two brothers and my baby sister. And, I'm not going to let that happen again, to anyone. Get out of here you hate-monger! Never again, do you hear me! Never again!"

For an instant, no one moved, and the silence was fraught with tension. Frantically texting the Hub, Gwen waited for some sort of reaction. Slowly, a middle-aged man in a business suit stood up. "I think you'd better take the gentleman's advice. He's right. We fought a war so this couldn't happen again, and I'm not going to let you bully two defenseless women because you're warped enough to think them some sort of threat."

Before the fanatic could make a retort, a woman with a toddler slowly started to clap. A Polish emigrant followed her example. So did two university students. And the barista. Soon, everyone in the coffee shop was deliberately clapping as a show of support. Someone had also had the presence of mind to call the police, and sirens could finally be heard in the distance.

It was at that point the angry man decided to retreat, but not before having the last word. "She doesn't deserve to be treated like a person! She's just some THING that looks like us! They should be put down before they enslave us all! EARTH FIRST!"

Before anyone could prevent him, he hurled his ceramic mug full of hot coffee at Melissa as he ran out the shop. It went wide, hitting a foot to the right of her, staining the cheery yellow walls. With apparent calmness, she turned to Gwen.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, but I didn't have a mug thrown at me. You sure you're alright?"

She was not alright; she was petrified and close to suffering a panic attack. However, she was determined not to show any sign of weakness in such a public place. "I want to go home."

Frankly, Gwen thought that was an excellent idea. She definitely needed a hug from Rhys. Picking up their purchases, she led Melissa outside, ignoring the belated expressions of concern coming from the customers in the coffeehouse. A police cruiser was pulling up to the front of the store, and she was grateful to see her former partner, Andy Davison, getting out of the car.

"I should have known it was you lot," he said with a grin. "Got a report of a lunatic threatening two pregnant women. Guess you had an encounter with some spooky do, yeah?"

"Earth First," Gwen corrected, surprised to find her voice unsteady.

The grin was wiped off the PC's face. Professionally, he looked them over. "Either one of you hurt?"

"Not for a lack of trying," Gwen answered, suddenly exhausted. "Look, Andy, I know you'll want statements, but we're both pretty shaken. Can we come in tomorrow?"

"Sure," he answered quickly, troubled to see her visibly shaking. "You come in when you're feeling up to it."

"Thanks."

Before she could move, Jack popped into existence not three feet away from her. "What happened?" he brusquely demanded, his eyes darting from Gwen to Melissa to PC Davison and then back to Melissa.

Gwen found herself answering when Melissa remained silent. Jack's presence bolstered her enough that she attempted to downplay what had happened. "There was a nutter in the coffee shop, Jack. He yelled at us and then left. We're fine."

"What else?" he snapped, eyeing his wife the entire time. To all outward appearances, she was stoic, frigid even, but he could feel her terror from several feet away. When the message had come through that there'd been an incident, he hadn't hesitated, teleporting out of the meeting in front of the entire UNIT headquarters command staff. The Doctor wasn't far behind; Jack could hear the grinding noise of the TARDIS engines as it materialized on the corner.

Reluctantly, Gwen elaborated, wishing for Rhys' comforting presence. "He was Earth First. He recognized Melissa. Started saying all sorts of horrible things. But an old man stood up to him, so he ran out, but not before he'd thrown his coffee mug at us."

Seeing Jack's jaw clench, she immediately continued. "It missed. We're both fine."

Her sentence ended in a half sob, and Jack immediately pulled her to him. "Of course you're not. We'll call Rhys. The Doctor can take you home in the TARDIS.

As Jack comforted Gwen, Melissa abruptly demanded, "I want to go home."

Releasing Gwen, Jack spoke very evenly to his wife, afraid that she would break down if he let his true emotions show. The display of weakness would upset her as much as the attempted assault. "We're going now. The three of us are going to walk into the TARDIS, and the Doctor will be there. Think you can do that?"

Her nod was imperceptible, but she started walking towards the ship. Jack left the witness interviews to the PC Davison, knowing that Mickey would discover just as much from a review of the CCTV footage. As briskly as he could, he ushered them inside the waiting TARDIS.

Melissa's outward composure shattered as soon as the door shut out the noise of the Cardiff street. Catching her before her knees buckled completely, Jack entered her mind, finding her huddled inside a small cave carved into a bleak cliff face, her rampant emotions swirling like a whirlwind outside.

"You're safe now, Sweetheart."

"I'm never safe, not from men like that. He thought I should be treated like an animal."

Squatting down, he offered her his hand. "The Doc and I won't let that happen to you; we promise."

"You already have." Shying away from him, she retreated farther into the cave.

The whirlwind was a full blown tornado now, and he was forced to brace himself at the entrance or risk being blown away. "I'm sorry. It won't happen again. You're safe. The babies are safe. We'll get Gwen home and then the three of us will go home together."

"I'm as good as any human," she emphatically declared, ignoring Jack's apology.

"Of course you are," the Doctor agreed, suddenly appearing between Jack and Melissa's mental images. "You've just had a fright, that's all."

They can't treat me like an animal! I won't let them do that to me again! It's wrong!"

Widening the cave, the Doctor absently gestured for Jack to crouch beside him. The Time Lord's attention was riveted on Melissa. Very gently, he asked, "They? What do you mean by 'they', Emma? There was only one man in the coffee shop, wasn't there?"

"The coffee shop?" Blinking, she looked at both men in confusion. Pressing her hand tightly against her head, she answered through gritted teeth. "The coffee shop-only one nutcase there, and he had bad aim. Sorry I overreacted. I . . . I'm not sure why."

"You're pregnant?" the Doctor teased.

Glaring at him, she suddenly realized he was joking. Sheepish, she let him lead them all out of that bleak mindscape, returning to the valley of Mt. Endeavor. After a mental caress, Jack left to take care of Gwen, and the Doctor slipped quietly out of Melissa's mind before leading her to the jump seat. To Gwen, it was as if nothing had happened.

Rhys was anxiously waiting for them when they materialized in the Williams' kitchen. "Gwen?"

Running to him, she threw her arms around her husband, no longer caring if anyone thought she was overreacting. She sobbed unabashedly against his chest. Alien threats she could deal with; it was the darker side of humanity that bothered her the most. And, she had definitely seen the darker side at the coffee shop.

Jack addressed Rhys, his voice tinged with concern even as his anger over the incident continued to grow. "I'm sending Martha over here, just to see if Gwen needs anything. She'll be here in a few minutes. I'm sorry. I've got to go."

Rhys struggled to make sense of what had happened. "Just a bloody minute, Jack! Donna said someone from Earth First tried to assault her? Are those nutters going after Torchwood now? She's not even working for you anymore!"

Jack looked pained. "I don't think so. Look, I'm sorry. She was shopping with Melissa. She was the one he tried to assault. Gwen just got in the way."

"They went after your wife?"

As Gwen nodded in confirmation against his chest, Rhys' indignation immediately changed to concern. "Is she okay?"

"He missed," Jack tersely replied, deliberately avoiding a direct answer. "Look, I've got to go. Martha should be here soon."

"Sure thing, mate. Let us know if you need anything."

With a nod, Jack walked back into the TARDIS. Once again, he helped the Doctor pilot the ship. Silent tears ran down Melissa's face as she sat forlornly on the jump seat. Once they were parked at the house, the Doctor tried to take her to the ship's infirmary, but she was adamant.

"I want to go home."

They sat on either side of her on the sofa in the den, waiting for her to speak. The Doctor had already scanned her with his sonic screwdriver, and except for increased hearts rates, she appeared to be suffering no physical effects from her scare.

Leaning against the Doctor, almost an hour later, she mumbled to the air. "He looked at me like I was a thing."

"He's already under arrest," Jack promised.

He'd been in contact with Mickey, who had quickly tracked the extremist to his flat. The idiot hadn't even tried to hide from the cameras. Even the police would have found him eventually. Torchwood had merely hastened the process.

He wasn't going to bother with an interrogation, either. After a background check, Donna was convinced that he was a loner who had seen the 'Aliens Among Us' website. It had been sheer bad luck that he had seen Melissa at all. That didn't mean that both Jack and the Doctor weren't tempted to beat some sense into the man, but they knew it would be a futile gesture.

Melissa tiredly rubbed her eyes with her palms. "I shouldn't have let my guard down. The next time it happens, I'll be ready."

"There isn't going to be a next time," the Doctor promised. "Jack and I aren't going to allow it."

"Yeah? Well, you didn't do a great job this time, did you?"

Their guilt hit her like an avalanche. Her subsequent remorse was so great that she momentarily forgot to breathe. When she remembered, she had to gasp for air, practically hyperventilating as she desperately tried to get her emotions under control.

Not understanding, Jack began to panic. "Shit! What's happening to her, Doc?"

Ignoring the question, the Doctor grasped Melissa's face to forge a deep link between their minds. Belatedly, he pulled Jack in. They were standing on the cool, red grass of Gallifrey. Melissa was standing anxiously in front of them, her arms protectively wrapped around her stomach.

It was the first time she'd appeared pregnant in a mental image, and they couldn't help but compare the fantasy with reality. Standing before them, her face was full, her hair shiny, and there was a softness to her features they hadn't seen in over a month. It made them more than a little sad, although they kept that thought well hidden. This was how she was supposed to look carrying a child, not pale and drawn and almost sickly.

"We're sorry we didn't protect you, Sweetheart."

"I know." Her response was surprisingly calm, her more volatile emotions dissipating as the Doctor delved deeper into her subconscious fears. "I didn't mean to hurt either one of you, either. It wasn't your fault."

Realizing that the Doctor was busy doing something in the background, Jack added the stained glass pavilion to the landscape, inviting Melissa to sit on one of the benches. She chose to sit on his lap instead, but he thought that was a better arrangement anyway. Gradually, he could hear classical music intertwined with the dull roar of the waterfall. He would really have to thank the Doc later. He could sense her relaxing further.

"I'm sorry."

"I am too. I didn't mean to overreact. Nothing happened. I don't know why-"

Abruptly, she yawned. It was impossible to keep her eyes open, although she tried. Finally submitting to the inevitable, she patted Jack's arm. "He's going really deep. Tell him to be careful, would you, Jack?"

Bemused, he nodded as the fog obliterated the scene in thick, damp clouds. When it lifted, he was standing in a familiar hallway, locked doors on both sides. The Doctor was sitting in the corner closest to Jack, rocking a young ginger girl to sleep.

"She said to be careful," he whispered in greeting.

The Time Lord soothingly stroked the little girl's thick hair. "I always am. It wouldn't be good for one of these doors to open right now, no telling what effect the stress would have on her, but I had to try to see why she was reacting so strongly to some idiot's rant in a shop."

"She's pregnant. Isn't that enough?"

Hardly, Captain. As she pointed out to me very forcibly this morning, we can't blame everything on her hormones."

"Why not?" He asked with a flippant grin.

"You're lucky she's unconscious, or you'd know why not." However, the Doctor's admonishment was delivered with a gentle, indulgent tone. "See that red door with the triple locks? Put your hand on it, and then tell me your impression."

Doing so, Jack pulled back his hand as though burnt. "She's terrified."

"Yes, but did you get an impression of what? Every time I think I do, I lose my train of thought.

Repeating the process, Jack kept his hand on the door until the little girl started to fret in her sleep. Thoughtfully, he considered his impressions. "She's afraid of humanity's inhumanity. No, wait, she's afraid of the inhumanity that specifically men are capable of, the violence, the—"

Suddenly, he looked sick. "These are her memories of the Time Agency, aren't they?"

"That would make sense. That's most likely why I'm getting confused when I touch them. The person who locked these memories knew I'd try to dig them up sooner or later."

"You know who blocked this one?" Jack's accusation was strong enough that the little girl whimpered, although her eyes stayed shut.

"Time and place, Captain. We'll discuss this once she safely delivers, not before. What's important is to understand why her reaction was so dramatic. And, now we do."

Carefully putting the little girl on the floor, the Doctor grabbed Jack's hand, willing them both away. Opening his eyes, the Captain saw that Melissa was stretched out on the sofa, her head on the Doctor's lap and her feet curled up on his.

"The day she delivers, I'm going to ask that question again, and you'd better be ready to answer."

The Doctor looked knowingly at him. "It won't be the day she delivers. We'll both be too besotted by our children to even think about anything but her and them."

Jack couldn't help but smile. "Yeah, you're right, but that doesn't mean I'm going to let this go."

"Of course you won't," he replied wearily. He just hoped that once the memory was unlocked, the three of them would be strong enough to endure it.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The next morning, the Doctor arrived early at Torchwood, leaving Jack at home to watch over Melissa as she slept. Except for Myfawny's occasional screeches, the Hub was quiet. Sitting down at Mickey's workstation, he determinedly calculated the key to breaking the cryloc cipher. Donna was right; the vast number of additional characters complicated the process, but it was still a cipher, not a code. Two hours later, he had deciphered the contents of the Earth First file, his hands clenching and unclenching as he read a surveillance report detailing his movements between the house and the Hub for the last four weeks.

A chill ran down his spine, and he quickly called Jack to warn him of the danger. Then, he continued to read about the surveillance conducted on some of the young Time Lords. These reports had additional instructions added to the end, and he noted with some alarm that Earth First had an attack planned against a couple living in Toronto that very afternoon.

Forcing himself to finish the file instead of bolting into his TARDIS to pick up the threatened Time Lords, he came across a list of every one of the Earth First terrorist cells, some twenty-five in all, spread throughout the globe. There was even one close to Cardiff. Calling UNIT HQ, he brusquely started issuing orders. It was past time to act.

Hours later, Melissa sat in the recliner near the work stations, doing her best not to worry as Torchwood, UNIT and the FBI conducted simultaneous raids on Earth First cells worldwide. She had been shielded from the fact that she, the Doctor and Jack had been stalked for almost a month, although she knew that Earth First had put other Time Lords under surveillance.

Listening with Mickey to the chatter on the comms Melissa tried not to fret, but it was a losing battle. She wished she could be with the rest of the team as they raided a small office building in nearby Newport, no matter how much of a liability she knew she would be. Glancing at the computer expert, she noticed by the expression on his face that he felt the same way.

"I'm sure Martha will be fine. I doubt they put up much of a fight."

"Hope so."

Just then, the Rift alarm went off, and Mickey's attention was diverted. "A major Rift spike. Something's come through."

"Where?"

Checking the map, the young man swore. "Right on top of us. Next to the fountain to be precise."

"Well, at least we'll be able to see it." Bringing up the CCTV, she sucked in her breath. "Of all the days for that idiot to show up."

"You know this guy?" Mickey thought he was a little over the top. He had short blond hair, a red coat that looked like he'd ripped it off from Napoleon's army, a sword strapped to his back, and a round of ammunition for a wicked looking gun thrown over his shoulder. Worst of all, he was staring straight into the camera, making gestures with his tongue that could only be interpreted as obscene.

"He's a friend of Jack's, and by friend I mean former lover who's killed Jack on a number of occasions. Wait here, Mickey, while I tell him he's not welcome."

As she pushed herself upright to walk towards the lift, the computer tech had his doubts. "I don't think Jack or the Doctor would want you out there right now, Melissa. They still haven't rounded up everyone associated with Earth First."

"Don't worry, Mick, I'll stay inside the perception filter. Hart will be able to see me, but no one else will. And, if he pulls his weapon, you can bring me back into the Hub."

He thought that was an extremely bad idea. "At least wait until Captain Flash comes back. Let him take care of this guy. It's not like he can get in here."

"Sorry, but that's where you're wrong, Mickey," She activated the lift, determined to get rid of the blast from Jack's past before her bond mates returned. "He's got a Vortex Manipulator and can teleport here whenever he wants. Standing outside is John Hart's version of being polite, but I doubt he can manage that for long."

Cursing, he considered contacting Jack, but it was becoming apparent that Earth First wasn't going down without a fight. Telling Jack or the Doctor now would only distract them and possibly get them killed. Praying she stayed within the confines of the perception filter, he watched her ascend.

John Hart was still making faces at the CCTV camera, and therefore had his back to the Hub's entrance. Melissa had the satisfaction of making him startle. "Are you going to stand there all day long and make out with the camera, Hart, or are you going to tell me why you're here?"

Spinning around, he was surprised to see a petite, red haired beauty wearing a sapphire blue empire waist dress and matching cropped jacket. Well, she would be petite if she wasn't so massively pregnant. Smiling, he turned on the charm.

"I see my reputation precedes me. And, it looks like Jack's tastes have gotten better when hiring the replacements, although I didn't think Torchwood had a maternity policy. Or, did you get bitten by a Nostrovite?"

"I'm no replacement, Hart," she answered testily. "You might say I'm the original. Now, are you going to tell me why you've come back to a place where you're definitely not wanted?"

Feeling more than a little confused, the Time Agent did his best to sound threatening. "Much as it's a pleasure to meet you, Red, I'd really like to talk to Jack. And, if he doesn't show soon, I might have to get nasty."

Melissa rolled her eyes. "Please, you couldn't get nasty with a prostitute from Erotica Seven. Now, tell me what you want, so I can tell you to leave. Jack's not here, if you haven't figured that out yet, moron, and you're not invited to wait for his return."

He took two steps towards her. "Have we met before? 'Cause I'm getting the distinct impression that this is more than a little personal for you."

Standing her ground, she pointed a compact laser deluxe at him. "Be very glad we haven't. The Time Agency isn't my favorite organization. Now, I'll ask again. Is there a reason you're here besides the fact that you can't seem to let Jack go?"

"Well, you're no fun at all."

She tensed, remembering what had happened in the alternate timeline when Hart had made much the same complaint. Taking a deep breath, she calmed quickly, but not before Jack's former partner noticed. He was quick to press his advantage.

"You know me, don't you, Red? Or, at least, you know of me. Jealous much?" Then, it suddenly clicked for him, and he laughed out loud. "Well, I'll give him one thing; Jack's taste in women is as good as his taste in men. Tell me, is Eye Candy jealous or are you having a three-way?"

Calmly, Melissa aimed and fired, putting a neat hole in John Hart's sword handle.

He took a prudent step backwards, craning his neck to see the damage to his sword. "You crazy bitch! You could have killed me."

"Only if I had wanted to, Agent Ninety-Six. Now, I'll ask again. Is there a reason you're here besides your pathetic need to torment Jack?"

Hart stared at her in complete shock. "How do you know my designation? Jack wouldn't have given that to you, no matter how good you are in the sack."

The gun wavered for the briefest instants. "I guessed," she answered lamely, her legs suddenly shaky. How had she known that?

"You didn't," he responded, his eyes narrowing. "You know me. How the hell do you know me? Are our timelines out of sync?"

"God, I hope not," she ruefully replied before putting another hole in his sword.

"Fuck! Okay, okay, Red! Take it easy! I'm not here to cause trouble. I came to give Jack a warning, but it won't make any sense unless he hears it from me."

She didn't trust him, and was convinced she shouldn't believe him. Unless she wanted to put a hole in his head, however, it seemed she had no choice. He stubbornly refused to leave. "Fine. You can wait downstairs, but try one thing and my partner will kill you, understand?"

"Yeah, I got it. Don't try anything, blah, blah, blah." He stepped towards her, intending to ride the lift with her down to the Hub, but the compact laser deluxe pointed squarely at his chest blocked his progress.

"I don't think so, idiot. Not with as many weapons as I know you carry. You may program your wrist strap for the work stations as soon as I'm down. A moment sooner and Mickey will kill you." Speaking into her comm., she asked, "You got that, Mickey?"

Slowly, she descended into the Hub, her eyes never leaving Hart until she was too far down to track him. Stepping off, she waddled as quickly as she could towards Mickey. "We're going to disarm him as soon as he appears, but don't let him kiss you; he likes to wear paralytic lipstick. And, don't take your eyes off of him even when he's unarmed."

"I don't go around kissing blokes," he muttered just as Hart popped into existence before them.

She didn't give him time to look around, again pointing the laser at his chest. "Your weapons, all of them."

Like a pouting toddler, he made a big production of pulling out his most obvious weapons. Melissa quickly had Mickey relieve him of the not so obvious ones, and then scanned him for good measure. "You make a go for that knife, and I'll kill you, but frankly, I have no desire to take it off your person. Hope it doesn't chafe too much."

Studying Mickey out of the corner of his eye, Hart grinned. "I'm beginning to like you, Red. You know, Jack and I used to share everything. I bet he'd let me have a go at you. Fat and feisty—I could get used to that."

The thought brought bile to her throat. "Mickey, if he says another word, shoot him." Not offering Hart a chair, she sank into her recliner, wishing it was the one with the massage setting. Her eyes never leaving their unwelcome guest, she listened with growing apprehension as Torchwood continued to encounter fierce resistance as they swept the office building in Newport.

She practically spilled out of the recliner when she heard Donna yell.

(Donna) _Jack's been hit! Get a medic up here now!_

(Martha)_ Ianto! Three behind you! Doctor, one coming towards you. He has the weapon. I repeat. He has the weapon. _

(Donna) _Martha, where the hell are you? I am not a bloody surgeon and this looks bad._

(Jack)_ It's not that bad! ARGH! Okay, maybe it's bad._

(Martha)_ Put pressure on the wound, Donna. Drocina's on her way. Ianto and I are going to help the Doctor. That gun to kill a Time Lord, it's real."_

Captain Hart snorted. "So what if Jack bites the big one? He'll come back, right?"

Her vision tunneling, Melissa gripped the chair. While she couldn't feel Jack's pain, the knowledge that he was injured and the Doctor was going up against a weapon specifically designed to kill him put her in a nervous state. Seeing her distress, Mickey helped her sit back down.

"The Captain's tough, Melissa. He'll make it through this. He's got too many reasons to live."

"Oh, no, don't tell me," the ex-Time Agent stated insincerely. "He's mortal again. I'd love to hear the story behind that!"

Mickey glared at Hart. "Shut it, you tosser."

(Ianto) _Where are those UNIT troops? There's at least twenty of them on the first floor and no sign of backup. Doctor, don't be an idiot!_

"Ooh, Eye Candy sounds royally pissed off!"

(The Doctor) _MARTHA!_

(Ianto) _Martha's down! She was shot by that weapon. We need a medic down here!_

(Drocina) _I'm sending Donna and the scanner. I'm having difficulty stopping the Captain's bleeding. I can't leave him._

Mickey slammed his fist against his desk, jumping to his feet in the desperate need to do something. As he paced around, Hart had enough sense of self-preservation not to comment.

(The Doctor) _Up the stairs! We can defend ourselves better from an upper floor._

(Donna)_ We can't leave Martha! They'll kill her._

(Ianto)_ If she's not dead already._

(The Doctor)_ We're not. You are. I'll meet you upstairs. Now, shift! _

(Donna)_ Get back here, Spaceman! _

Both Mickey and Melissa held their breaths as they listened intently. There was an incredible amount of weapons' fire, and then nothing. They heard Donna and Ianto frantically call out the Doctor's name, but he didn't reply. Melissa was very glad she was sitting down because she knew she was very close to fainting. Then, all of a sudden, they heard the Doctor's voice.

(The Doctor) _It's me! I've got Martha. Let me in!_

(Donna) _How is she?_

(The Doctor) _Give me the scanner and we'll find out. She's okay, just knocked out from the anesthetics. What? That's not possible!_

(Donna) _What's not possible, Doctor?_

(The Doctor) _Later, Donna. How bad is he?_

(Drocina) _The bullet ripped open the cephalic vein. He's lost a lot of blood._

(Ianto) _Can we teleport out?_

(The Doctor) _It's not safe for more than three at a time, but Drocina could take Jack and Martha. Are you getting this, Mr. Mickey?_

Immediately, Mickey turned professional. "I hear you, Boss. We'll be ready. I'm calling UNIT for backup. Stay put and don't do anything stupid."

Again, she heard the sound of gunfire. The Doctor was either too busy to answer, or he'd been hit, although she didn't feel like that had happened. Even with her limited understanding of time, however, she couldn't help but notice that Jack, Drocina and Martha had not appeared.

"Give me the coordinates. At least I can bring an extra weapon to the fight."

Numbly, she told Captain John Hart the team's location. He disappeared in a flash. Only then did she notice that she couldn't hear any sound from the comms. It was ominously silent. After barking orders to some poor UNIT grunt, Mickey took a look at their communications system. "Fried. They're jamming or employed an EMP pulse. Either way, we're blind."

Just as he said that, six people flashed into being in front of them. John and Ianto were holding Jack, and Drocina and Donna were holding Martha. Melissa couldn't help but note the Doctor was nowhere in sight. Belatedly, she noticed the copious amount of blood on Jack's coat and the fact that he wasn't moving.

"Jack!"

Rushing to the Captain's side, Drocina issued terse commands. "Keep her away, Ianto! Mickey, Martha's merely unconscious. Donna, get Martha to the sofa and watch her for signs of distress."

"You," she continued, pointing at John Hart. "Get back and help the Doctor."

Hart thought of protesting, but Donna gave him a glare frosty enough to convince him otherwise. Biting back a sarcastic retort, he activated his teleport and disappeared.

Mickey and Drocina carried Jack to the medical bay. The healer immediately took a sharp pair of scissors and began to cut away his coat sleeve. The bullet had somehow missed the bone, but the blood loss was becoming dangerous. Cutting away his shirt, she told Mickey to get a pint of plasma while she began to clean the wound.

With his help, she soon had the IV of plasma hooked up to the Captain's uninjured arm. As she carefully repaired the wound, she curtly dismissed Mickey. After a tense half hour, she was finished, and again assessed Jack's condition. He'd need two pints of O positive in addition to the plasma, but he seemed in remarkable shape otherwise. Breathing a sigh of relief, she went to inform Melissa.


	21. From Bad to Worse

Author's Notes - Sometimes being the one who waits is just as stressful as being in harm's way, as you're about to see. Thanks to **dwatlaskrhtcm** and **Kassandra J** for reviewing the last chapter.

* * *

><p>Melissa hovered near Martha's still form because she didn't know what else to do. If she thought about Jack or the Doctor too much, she knew she was going to lose what little emotional control she had left. Donna suggested she sit, but she shook her head emphatically and started to pace. When Mickey returned, he assured her that Jack was going to be fine, but it was difficult to believe him when his t-shirt was covered in blood.<p>

Donna again tried to lead her away, but her clothes looked like they had been splashed with red paint, and something finally snapped. Wringing her hands, Melissa started to pace and mutter to herself.

Before she could fully work herself into a hysterical state, Ianto came up behind her and gently tapped her on the shoulder. Twirling around, she saw that he was dressed in an immaculately clean suit. Strangely comforted by that fact, she let him lead her to Jack's office where a tray of biscuits and a steaming cup of tea were waiting for her.

She sat in the recliner without a thought, mechanically eating the shortbread and chocolate wafers as Ianto handed them to her.

"Better?" He handed her the cup of tea.

Her hands shook, but she took a sip without spilling. "A little. Thank you, Ianto."

He gave her a tight-lipped smile. "There are certain advantages to being the tea boy." After a pause, he said quietly, "Jack's going to be fine. The blood made it look worse than it is. He'll need a new coat."

"He'll hate that."

"Don't worry; his tailor has several on standby. It's not the first time it's been replaced."

Sipping her tea, she did her best to calm down, but when Drocina walked in without knocking, she almost spilled the hot liquid in her haste to stand up. "Is he okay? Can I see him? Is he conscious? The bullet hit his left arm? I can recalibrate the tissue regenerator, you know. I did it once before, but his shoulder had been hit that time. It wasn't his shoulder, was it?"

"Emissary, slow down. Take a few deep breaths. Captain Harkness is going to be fine. He's unconscious due to blood loss more than trauma. He's getting plasma right now. He'll need some whole blood as well, but we have O positive stored."

"Can I see him?"

"As long as you promise to rest afterwards, I'll take you to see him."

"Fine, I promise. Just let me see him."

She walked to the medical bay in a haze, hardly aware of the people around her. Reaching Jack, she patted his uninjured arm. He was already becoming aware of his surroundings, and when he looked up at her, a pained smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"Hey."

"Hey, yourself. See what happens when you don't have me to watch your back?"

His smile widened, and then he winced as the pain spiked. "I'm glad you weren't, not after they found that gun. Did the Doc get it?"

"I don't know. He and that idiot Hart aren't back."

Briefly, Jack closed his eyes, biting back a groan. "I really hoped I'd hallucinated that part. Do you know why he's here?"

Shaking her head, she played with his hair. Silent tears rolled down her face, although she tried to tell herself that she was being ridiculous. Jack had been through much worse and survived. That thought wasn't giving her comfort at the moment, however.

"Hey, it's okay, Sweetheart. Everything's going to be fine. The Doc and I promised, remember?"

Her bottom lip quivering, she nodded, but the tears wouldn't stop. It upset him more than his injury, but there was little he could do but reassure her as he lay on the table.

As her tears continued, they both heard the commotion caused by the Doctor and Hart's return. Knowing that the Doctor was out of harm's way and relatively unscathed opened the floodgates. She found herself leaning against the table, her breaths coming in huge gasping sobs.

Instinctively, Jack tried to sit up to comfort her, but he immediately found that to be a bad idea. Black spots danced before his eyes, but he found he still had his voice. "Doc! Drocina! One of you guys needs to get in here, now!"

His shouts brought the Doctor, Donna, Ianto and John Hart to him at a run. Hart watched the unfolding scene with undisguised interest as Ianto and Donna lingered in the background, unsure of how to assist.

As he wrapped his arms reassuringly around Melissa, the Doctor quietly spoke to Jack. "Drocina's with Martha at the moment. Mickey thought she was having trouble breathing. She'll be here when she can."

Melissa trembled against him, now crying silently. He soothed her as best he could, stroking her hair and murmuring encouragingly in her ear. Finally, she appeared to calm down.

"It's alright, Em. I'm fine, not a scratch on me, and Jack's going to be fine just as soon as we get some blood in him, right, Captain?"

"Right," he answered in a fair imitation of jauntiness. "In fact, I'll be perfect once we get rid of John. No offense, but I really don't have time for whatever you're selling."

Walking forward, the disgraced Time Agent tried his best to ooze charm. "I'm wounded, Jack. I'm not selling anything."

Ianto snorted loudly enough that Hart turned to face him. "Eye Candy! Still looking good in a suit. Since Jack's obviously dumped you too, care to join me? I taught him everything he knows. Might be fun—you, me, a couple of hypervodkas."

"Not even after a dozen."

Pouting, John returned his attention to his former partner. "God, you spoil your pets." After receiving several icy glares, he put out his hands. "Okay, okay. Jesus, you people have no sense of humor."

Shrugging, he finally got to the point. "I just came to give you some friendly advice. You know how I said a while back that there were just seven of us now? I might have exaggerated a little."

"How little?"

"Oh, you know, the whole the Time Agency doesn't exist anymore part. And, uh, they might know where you are."

A pin could have dropped at that point, and the sound would have echoed. The Doctor was the first to react.

"What? WHAT? Let me guess who gave them the information."

Backing prudently away, Hart hotly defended himself. "It wasn't my fault! They drugged me!"

Jack stared upwards, counting to a hundred. The Time Agency wasn't even on his list of concerns at the moment. "Get out."

Whatever reaction Hart had expected, it hadn't been that one. He looked genuinely confused. "Huh? You still woozy from the blood loss, Jack? I just told you the Time Agency is after you. You need me."

"Clearly, I don't. Now, get out before I order someone to shoot you. And the next time you get picked up by the Agency, you can tell them I'd like to see them try."

"You really play hard to get, don't you? Okay, I'm going do something out of character here and tell you the truth. They don't know where you are, yet. But they are looking for me. I thought I could work here while we decide what to do."

Jack almost retorted that there was no 'we', but he knew arguing would only prolong Hart's stay. No, his former partner required a more direct approach. "Ianto, still got that stopwatch of yours?"

"Always."

"Good, if he's not gone in sixty seconds, shoot him."

Unruffled by the request, the Welshman pulled out his stopwatch and an automatic pistol.

"Shit! You are all bat shit crazy!" Whining a little, he tried to get Jack to hire him until Ianto calmly informed him that he had ten seconds. Assuring them all that they would regret their decision, he disappeared from the Hub.

Sniffling in the Doctor's arms, Melissa wondered out loud. "Do you think either one of those stories was true?"

"Don't know and don't care," Jack answered flippantly. "I want to know if you got that gun, Doc."

The Doctor went completely still, his pent up fury exploding so forcefully inside him that Melissa shrank away. Belatedly, he attempted to calm down, but it was difficult. His tone was scathing when he finally replied.

"Oh, I retrieved the weapon, not that it matters. There's no way to know if they have more of the poison stored elsewhere. And, as Drocina and I discovered when we analyzed it, the fourth ingredient precludes the possibility of an antidote. In fact, the other three ingredients are purely window dressing."

"So what is it already?" Jack asked crossly.

"It's digilitum."

"But, that's impossible." Melissa truly hoped he was mistaken. The ramifications if he were right were far too great to contemplate.

Jack shared her dismay. "Oh. Shit." He couldn't help but think that maybe he should have kept John around for a little while longer. "Why isn't Martha dead?"

"The digilitum has been genetically modified to target triple-stranded DNA."

Standing in the shadows, Ianto felt like he was the odd man out. "Sorry, but can someone explain what digilitum actually is?"

As troubled as the rest, Donna answered somberly for the group. "It's a poison that stops the heart almost instantly, and there's no antidote. More importantly, it isn't invented until the fifty-first century."

"Ah. So, the Time Agency is after Time Lords?"

About to give his opinion, the Doctor became aware of the fact that Melissa had begun to tremble again, her eyes glassy and vacant. "Donna, get Drocina. Now."

As Donna raced up the stairs, the Doctor desperately tried to assure Melissa that everything would be fine. It was difficult convincing himself, however, especially when her eyes rolled to the back of her head and her knees buckled.

"Ianto, a little help here!"

As Jack helplessly looked on, the Doctor eased their wife to the ground with Ianto's assistance. Sitting next to her, he felt her neck. Her skin was clammy and her hearts were racing. Sparing an agonized look towards Jack, he ordered the archivist to find out what was taking so long.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Taking the stairs to the medical bay two at a time, Drocina took one look at her patient and pulled out the scanner. Confirming her suspicions, she briskly found the necessary supplies to start the pregnant Time Lord on an IV of Dextrose. Standing up, she handed the bag of glucose to the Doctor to temporarily hold.

"Her glucose levels dropped precipitously, but she shouldn't suffer any lasting effects. Keep holding that, Doctor, until I can get her off the floor." Looking around, she frowned. "We should have thought to put one of those recliners in here. I'll be right back. Ianto, she's going to need some type of soft drink, not diet. Donna, pick up some take away, something with a high carbohydrate and fat content, pastry, pizza, whatever's closest, and get enough for the rest of us."

Holding the IV bag aloft as everyone scurried to follow the healer's orders, the Doctor wondered how a bad day had turned even worse so quickly. "I didn't have any warning," the Time Lord confessed. "Did you?"

Lying flat on his back, Jack could hear the self-recrimination in the confession and wished he could reach out to comfort his bond mate. The best he could do was to attempt to convince him that he wasn't to blame. "No, at first, I thought she was hysterical. She seemed to pull herself together okay, but then I guess it just happened too fast."

There was no reply, and they both sank into a depressed silence.

It seemed to take forever for Drocina to return. In reality, the young woman and Mickey appeared merely a few minutes later, lugging the recliner from the archives down the short flight of stairs. Affixing the IV bag to a pole, Drocina ordered the Doctor and Mickey to place the chair near where Jack lay. Then, the three of them carefully lifted her into it. Reclined, it made a decent substitute for a bed.

"Let me know when she wakes. I've got to get back to Martha. The anesthetics were very powerful." With that, she and Mickey raced back up the stairs.

Left alone again, the Doctor and Jack waited apprehensively for Melissa to regain consciousness. Ianto returned at some point with a tray of various drinks, from Fanta to ginger ale to Coke to freshly made lemonade. Placing it on an unused table, he left quietly, not wanting to intrude.

When she did wake, she was disoriented and confused. "Doc?"

Crouching beside the chair, he tenderly pushed a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. "How are you feeling, Em?"

"I don't—" Glancing around, her lips pursed into a puzzled frown. "How did I. . . ? Jack?"

"I'm here, Sweetheart. You fainted. You're going to be fine."

Craning her neck, she was alarmed to find him lying on the table. "You're hurt? I . . . What's going on?"

"Here, Emma, drink this." Carefully sitting her up, he put one of the straws Ianto had thoughtfully provided into a bottle of Fanta. As she absentmindedly sipped the orange soda, he tried to explain what had happened, speaking slowly and distinctly, not sure how much she could yet understand.

"Your glucose levels are too low. You lost consciousness, but you're going to be fine. It's normal to be a little confused."

It was a testament to her mental state that she didn't think to inquire about health of the fetuses, or ask what had happened to Jack. "My brain feels all mushy," she remarked dazedly, still processing what the Doctor had told her.

Both men blanched at her turn of phrase. Ignoring the narrowing of his vision, Jack pushed himself up with his good arm. When she noticed his injury, she didn't understand. "Did Gray do that, Jack?"

The Captain had to force himself to speak, his throat choked with unabashed terror. "Gray?"

Mistaking the cause of his upset, she remorsefully confessed, "I couldn't feel you. I wanted to help, but I couldn't. My head's so mushy."

Swiftly returning the Fanta to the table, the Doctor had his arms supporting Jack before he could fall over. "Easy, there, Captain. Lie down and don't jump to conclusions. I'll get Drocina."

Once he had made sure Jack was comfortable, he spoke gently to Melissa. "I'm going to get someone who can help you. Can you stay here and make sure Jack rests?"

She appeared befuddled again, and he steeled himself for wherever her confusion would take her next, but it seemed the treatment was starting to have some effect. "Doc? I feel really tired. Where's Owen?"

Or, perhaps not.

"Owen's not here right now, Em, but I'm going to find someone who can help you and Jack. Just stay here and I'll be right back."

"Owen's dead," she said flatly. "And, Jack, Jack was shot? Everything seems kinda foggy."

"Your glucose levels dropped too low. You lost consciousness for a while, and it's normal to be confused. Rest while I get Drocina."

When she didn't protest, he sprinted upstairs, finding the healer tending to Martha. Waiting only somewhat impatiently, he was grateful to see that his former companion was breathing easily. From analyzing her blood, he knew she would be unconscious for several hours; the combination of the anesthetics had been quite potent.

Finished for the time being, Drocina looked up to acknowledge the Doctor. "She's awake?"

"Yes, but she's still very confused. I'd like you to make sure nothing else is wrong."

Returning, they found Melissa only partially aware. With a frown, Drocina soon discovered why her patient wasn't recovering as quickly as she had anticipated. Quietly, she informed the Doctor.

"The glucose is being funneled to the fetuses first, rather than to her organs. It will take some time for her mind to clear, but it will. Reassure her if she becomes distressed."

The Doctor let out a breath in pure relief. Reassurance was something he was very good at. Thanking the healer, he mentioned, "I think you might need to look at Jack. He would have collapsed if I hadn't caught him."

"Captain Harkness is under strict orders to lie down."

"Yeah, well, I'm sure you've noticed by now that Jack doesn't always follow orders."

Biting back a sarcastic comment, Drocina checked to make sure the Captain had not ripped his sutures. Starting him on a bag of whole blood, she gave the half conscious man a stern lecture about listening to his physician before excusing herself.

The Doctor watched her leave and then turned his attention to Melissa. Studying him, she apprehensively rubbed her stomach. "You aren't angry, are you, Beloved? You were dead, and I was so alone. Don't hate me like Susan. Please."

Kneeling beside her, he reassuringly stroked her cheek, wishing not for the first time that he could have somehow protected her from so much tragedy. "Susan doesn't hate you. Of course she doesn't. She's just scared right now. No one's angry. Everything will be fine; you'll see."

"I'm having a girl." Smiling timidly, she took his hand to rest it on her huge belly.

Reaching out, the Doctor touched the consciousness of their daughter. There was nothing wrong with her glucose levels. She was happily putting her foot in her mouth. He could only hope their son was just as content.

"A beautiful girl, Emma, just like her mother."

"Jack's so excited."

"With good reason," he devotedly assured her, hoping that she wouldn't take this particular memory too far.

For a while, she passively held his hand. Eventually, she became more alert, blinking her eyes and rubbing her face. Groggily, she asked, "What happened?"

"You fainted," he simplified, not quite sure if she was totally coherent. "But you're going to be fine.

"I don't remember." Glancing past him, she questioned him anxiously. "Is Jack going to be okay?"

"He's just tired. He lost a lot of blood."

For a moment, it appeared that she was zoning out yet again, but a soft smile briefly transformed her face into a thing of beauty. "Oh, she's so clever. She's found her toes."

He couldn't help but grin. She was firmly in the present. "Yes, nothing wrong with her glucose levels."

"Is that what happened to me?" Belatedly, she noticed the IV, and her smile crumpled.

"You gave everyone quite a scare, Emma. But, you're going to be fine." Bending down, he pressed a kiss on her forehead. "I think the Captain would say something like, you should rest, Sleeping Beauty."

"I can't remember much past hearing that Jack had been shot. Everything else is hazy. You're sure he's going to be okay?"

"I'm certain."

"And Hart?"

"Gone."

"Do I want to know?"

"Jack sent him away, and the rest can wait for later. You should try to sleep, conserve your energy."

"I am tired."

He stroked her cheek until her breathing became slow and even. Standing up, he caught the Captain watching him. "How long have you been awake?"

"Long enough. I didn't want to upset her by calling out. She is going to be okay, isn't she?"

"Yes, she is. How are you feeling, Jack?"

"Don't ask," he answered ruefully. "Being mortal sucks."

Abruptly, the Time Lord leaned over and kissed him fiercely. "There are certain advantages, wouldn't you say?"

"Hell, yeah, Doc. I just hope I don't have to get injured for you to do that again."

A smirk tugged the corners of his mouth. He'd been terrified when he'd realized Jack had been injured, but for once, Torchwood had been lucky. "Now, now, Captain. I thought you agreed to celibacy for the duration of Emma's pregnancy."

"Kissing doesn't count, Doc. It's like breathing."

"To you maybe," he replied archly. Then, he repeated the kiss until Jack was breathless.

Pulling back a few inches, his demeanor flipped, and he self-consciously patted Jack's uninjured arm. "I'd prefer you didn't do that again."

"What? Kiss you? I think it was the other way around, actually."

"That's not what I meant, and you know it." He answered with a hint of annoyance. "Don't use yourself as a human shield. Donna said you were shot because you pushed her out of the way."

"And you think I should have let Donna get shot?" He couldn't believe he was being lectured for saving a friend.

"Of course not! I . . . I really didn't think that one through, did I?"

"No, but none of us are at our best. I still can't get my head around that fourth ingredient. How many groups are sophisticated enough to get their hands on genetically altered digilitum?"

It was a distraction tactic, and it worked. He did not want to continue the other topic of conversation. He had a sneaking suspicion that he would have to tell the Doctor off about being overprotective, and he didn't have the stomach or, frankly, the energy to do that quite yet.

"Almost every species with time travel technology would have the knowledge required to tailor the poison to fit their needs. The real question becomes who has motive?"

"Do you think the Agency is really after me?"

"If they were, why use a poison specific to Time Lords?"

"Maybe they've heard I'm immortal. Wanted to get to me through the people I love?"

His simple declaration made the Doctor's hearts thud loudly in his chest. Why was it so difficult for him to say those words? Emma and Jack had no problem saying them to him.

Pushing that aside for the moment, he shook his head. "I don't think so, Jack. If they wanted to punish you, it would be easier to simply blow up the Hub with everyone in it.

He winced. "Thanks for that image, Doc. As if my usual nightmares aren't bad enough. So, it's not the Time Agency."

"I didn't say that, did I? I said they weren't targeting you. I can think of several reasons why they might target Time Lords."

"Their official policy is that Time Lords are myths. But, it would be like them to manipulate Earth First into doing their dirty work. Plausible deniability is their middle name."

"Let's not jump to conclusions. It's a popular CIA tactic as well."

He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Hey, as much as I don't like your brother, he does seem devoted to you and Melissa. You aren't actually accusing him of engineering this, are you?"

"If he had a good enough reason, my brother would do just about anything. But, no, I'm not accusing Brax, at least not yet. There are simply too many suspects at this point. It could also be any of a number of species whose planets were wiped out in the Time War out to take revenge. There's even a chance that UNIT had this in their black archives. They secured the Valiant while you and I were preoccupied with other things. The Master always did like to play around in the lab."

He didn't believe the last scenario for an instant. "Please, like the Master was ever going to kill you."

The sneer he received as a reply was full of raw contempt. The Captain's breath hitched, thinking he had finally crossed an irrevocable line. "Look, Doctor, I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything by it. You told me yourself that he wouldn't kill you."

Instantly, the Time Lord's expression changed to one of profound mortification. "Jack, those days on the Valiant were some of the most painful days of my life. Everything he did was a sick ploy to gain my attention. Every time he had one of the guards brutalize you, every time he had you whipped, every time he killed you, it was my fault, all of it. I was so selfish. I should have insisted you leave with Martha. It would have been safer for both of you. But, I didn't think I was strong enough to stand up to him without you."

Belatedly, he understood. The contempt hadn't been meant for him, it was focused entirely inward. "Doc, you don't have to explain. It's over."

"It might be over, but I think I've owed you an explanation for a long time."

"You really don't." Surprisingly, he knew he was speaking the truth. "I love you. The worst thing about that year was knowing how much he was hurting you. It's over. We have so much to look forward to. Don't let his memory tarnish any of that."

He was completely stunned. "I don't know what to say."

A decidedly cranky voice rose from behind him. "You'd better say you love him, Doc, or you're going to be sleeping in the back garden."

"I love you."

He had turned towards Melissa at the sound of her voice, and the words spilled from his mouth so quickly that he wasn't even facing Jack when he said them. Knowing that he hadn't done it quite right, he ruefully rubbed the back of his neck as he faced the man he loved.

"You do know that, don't you? I mean, I might not be the best at expressing my feelings. You can ask Donna about that if you don't believe me. I love you, Captain. I have for a long time. I just, didn't think it could be like this—not to imply that this isn't good, not at all. This is amazing. It's just certain aspects of this were, um, uncomfortable, for me. Not that the actual act was uncomfortable, far from it, but, uh—what I mean is, it's nice to be proven wrong. Brilliant, even. I mean surprises are good, don't you—"

Breaking into a genuine grin for the first time that day, Jack stopped the Time Lord before he could ramble his foot into his mouth. "Doc."

"Yes, Captain?"

"I love you too. Now, can you help me up? I think the three of us would be much more comfortable in the TARDIS, don't you?"

"Most likely, but the TARDIS is currently at the house."

"Isn't that precisely what Emergency Program Four is for?"

Looking somewhat sheepish, he clarified, "Actually, there has to be someone inside the TARDIS to activate that particular program."

"Doc."

"Yes, Captain?"

"That's a stupid program."

"Yes, it is," Melissa agreed tiredly. "Since Jack and I seem stuck here for a while, do you mind holding our hands? I'm getting a crick in my neck trying to see him."

As soon as he complied, the three of them were transported to the valley of Mt. Endeavor. Running through the red grass, a very pregnant Melissa threw herself at both of them, squeezing them in a ferocious, possessive hug.

"Everything's going to be alright," the Doctor said, as much to himself as to his bond mates.

Pulling back, she answered dispiritedly. "You're just hoping you're right, Doc. You can't promise that."

Rejecting her premise, Jack scooped her up and spun her around, enjoying the freedom their mental landscape afforded. "Hope's a good thing, Sweetheart, remember? Earth First is crippled; the gun's in our custody; I've been patched up; and Drocina's going to make sure nothing happens to you or the children."

When he put her down, her smile was fleeting. "I'm just so tired. And I was so scared for both of you."

The Doctor knew of only one thing that might make it better. Standing calmly before her, he dropped his last defenses, inviting her and Jack to do the same. As soon as they joined, there was a crescendo of fear and apprehension and worry, but they acknowledged those emotions without letting them become all consuming. Gradually, a sense of peace suffused the three, growing into a profound joy as they touched the mind of their daughter, who replied with simple delight. Reluctantly, they finally separated, the Doctor pouring as much strength as he could into both Jack and Melissa before they were once again alone with their own thoughts.

Melissa had already relaxed into a deep slumber, Jack nearly so. Releasing their hands, the Doctor momentarily braced himself on the table's edge. He was suddenly exhausted, but it came with a feeling of satisfaction that he wouldn't have traded for the world. At least for now, he knew everything was truly alright. Quietly, he sat between the two people he loved, guarding their sleep.


	22. Grand Central Station

Author's Notes - This has been a truly hectic week. I'm thankful that I have the time to post today. This chapter is a bit of a transition, although John Hart does make an appearance in his usual, insufferable way. Hope you enjoy it. Thanks to **dwatlaskrhtcm** for reviewing the last chapter.

* * *

><p>The Doctor couldn't sleep. It was dark and quiet, and he could feel the warmth radiating from Jack's back as the Captain peacefully slumbered in the middle of the bed, but none of it mattered. His mind was too troubled, his thoughts zinging distractedly in his head. It didn't help that he'd slept the day before, either. Time Lords didn't need to sleep nearly as much as humans, although Melissa suddenly needed more, no doubt due to the lives growing inside her.<p>

Eyes closed, he listened as she slowly pushed herself out of bed and made her way to their bathroom, but he stayed silent. He and Jack had learned very quickly not to comment on her increasingly frequent nighttime waking. Invariably she snapped at them and made some cutting remark about the inefficiencies of the female reproductive system. She lowered herself into bed several minutes later and was snoring again in a mere forty-four point two-six seconds.

Precisely ten minutes after that, he quietly left the bedroom, intending to do some TARDIS maintenance when he spied a light coming from the downstairs. Retrieving his sonic screwdriver from the bedside table, he went to investigate.

The light was coming from the kitchen, and he suddenly had a strong suspicion about the identity of their intruder. Walking forward, he watched his brother eat a slice of pizza leftover from that evening's meal.

"You should introduce pizza on Gallifrey."

"The young ones already have. I think a few of them plan to open a restaurant." Looking up, Brax smiled. He was barefoot, wearing jeans and a t-shirt instead of robes, and the Doctor was relieved to see that this was strictly an unofficial visit.

"Where's your TARDIS?"

"You have a temporary garden shed."

The Doctor nodded like this was nothing out of the ordinary and then put on some water to boil. "Who told you?"

Brax didn't pretend to misunderstand. "Drocina. She's a brave young woman, but I think this has truly frightened her. Poor child, she believed Earth to be some sort of haven, charmingly primitive and free from the intrigue that often plagues our existence."

He didn't immediately comment, pouring the boiling water into a pot for the tea to steep. As his brother finished his third piece of pizza, he quietly asked, "Was it you?"

There was a slight stiffening to the blonde man's shoulders, but other than that, he gave no indication that the question disturbed him in the least. "No, what would be the point?"

"I thought perhaps someone on the Council might be attempting to scare us into returning home."

Taking two mugs from the cabinet, the leader of the Celestial Intervention Agency considered. "It would be a dangerous ploy, giving Earth First such a potent weapon. It's more likely to be someone who didn't want you going home, if it was a Time Lord. Although, you must admit that you would be much safer on Gallifrey."

"I admit no such thing," he said lightly as he poured them each a strong cup of tea.

Brax turned serious. "I could protect you better there."

The Doctor blinked. Usually his brother wasn't so blatantly obvious about the purpose of his visits, even when they were alone. He almost quipped that the thought wasn't all that comforting, but he knew the offer was sincere. Brax truly thought he could protect them all on Gallifrey.

Wryly, he asked, "And start a civil war?"

"I think Romana would welcome one, if truth be told." There was a flash of something on his face, gone too quickly to interpret before he added somberly, "The office weighs heavily on her. She takes innocent comments as the highest insults these days, Doc."

Instantly, his entire demeanor changed, and he was his usual self-assured and brash self. "Besides, I've compromised enough of Amathow's supporters that we don't have to worry about that."

"It's an option," he slowly allowed. "But not one I have any intention of choosing at this time."

"Doc—"

"Not unless it becomes absolutely necessary, Brax. Jack would feel out of place fairly quickly."

That observation raised his ire. "I don't know why the two of you put his needs so much higher than your own."

"Don't, just don't. He almost died in the raid." The Doctor was more than ready to order his brother out of the house, but surprisingly, Brax seemed apologetic.

Quietly, he admitted, "I didn't know. Drocina only told me about the digilitum. What happened?"

"He saved Donna's life by stepping in front of a bullet. He'll be fine. Drocina repaired the vein and he spent most of last night hooked up to the tissue regenerator. Emma didn't react well. Her glucose levels plummeted from the stress. She had to be given Dextrose intravenously. It was a very long day."

Irving Braxiatel swore softly under his breath before trying to persuade his brother to reconsider.

"We're safe enough here, for now. But I won't rule it out."

"I suppose that will have to do. Thanks for the pizza."

The Doctor watched as his brother let himself out the back door, and noticed that Brax locked it behind him with a key. Now that was just showing off. It didn't take long to throw the pizza box away or put the two mugs into the dishwasher, leaving him just as restless as before.

Settling in front of the computer, he engaged in a childish, but very satisfying bout of cyber sabotage, redirecting the Aliens Among Us website to one that detailed the horrors of the Holocaust in Nazi Germany. Most would be too thick to see the analogy, but the old man in the coffee shop had had the right of it. A war had been fought to ensure such things didn't happen again, even if humanity as a whole had fallen far short of that goal. Perhaps it was time for a reminder.

Then, he reluctantly opened his calendar, although he knew his schedule all too well. His waking hours were now filled with meetings and official dinners and semi-official parties all around the globe. Overnight, his life had been turned upside down, and he didn't like it a bit.

At least Emma's pregnancy gave her an excuse not to attend, although the Queen had made some noises about popping by Torchwood for an unofficial visit. Ianto had actually paled a little at that, glancing around the untidy, dank Hub, no doubt imagining Myfawny eating Her Majesty's hat. Jack had suggested they call on her at Buckingham Palace once Melissa delivered, and she had been so delighted at the prospect that she gladly agreed.

Ruthlessly, he cleared his schedule for the next week, citing his wife's health. He received a flurry of emails in reply, all expressing concern for Gallifrey's other ambassador and invitations to reschedule at his convenience. Ignoring them for the moment, he accessed the Hub's computer, eager to discover the results of the other raids.

For the most part, they had been a complete success. Skimming the initial reports, he was chilled to read that another gun had been found in a warehouse in Canada in the same city as the two Time Lords who had been targeted for attack. Skimming further, he gripped the mouse so tightly in his hand that it snapped into two jagged pieces.

Marshall had been arrested during the raid on Earth First headquarters, but released due to a lack of evidence. The FBI had found nothing to link him specifically to the conspiracy, and not one of the fanatics being held had mentioned his name. There was a notation at the end of the report to continue round the clock surveillance in the hope that Marshall did something to incriminate himself, but it really didn't matter. That psychopath was still on the loose.

Jack woke with the unsettling feeling that someone was watching him. Doing his best to feign sleep, he scanned the room. When he eyes slid to the chair beside the bed, he slowly sat up, experimentally flexing his left arm.

"Please tell me you've been doing something more stimulating than watching us sleep, Doc."

His bond mate didn't crack a smile. "The FBI released Marshall due to a lack of evidence."

"Great, nothing starts my day like bad news. I guess you wouldn't have some coffee to go with that, would you?"

The Doctor left without a word. He shouldn't have thrown the news at Jack like that, but he'd been fretting about it for several hours. The Captain was right, though. Bad news was easier to swallow with caffeine.

Cautiously standing up, Jack noted with some relief that the room didn't spin. While he was exhausted and sore, he wasn't about to discuss that lunatic Marshall in the room where Melissa still slept. Pulling on a black, long-sleeved t-shirt, he blearily made his way to the kitchen.

The Doctor had managed to make coffee so strong that it would have put Susan's to shame. Adding a liberal amount of cream, he added a shot of chocolate syrup. Generally, he wasn't a mocha kind of guy, but he had a feeling he was going to need the extra sugar. Leaning against the counter, he watched the Doctor cook the messiest omelet he had ever seen.

Gesturing at the small kitchen table, the Time Lord sliced some bread for toast. "Sit."

Obediently, Jack sat without voicing a single wisecrack; he was simply too tired to make the effort. A few minutes later, he was eating breakfast. Instantly, he vowed that he'd clean up whatever mess the Doctor had made while cooking something so delicious. The omelet was perfectly prepared, and the toast wasn't too burnt.

"Better?"

Jack raised an eyebrow, speaking all too innocently. "Not sure yet. I think I need a Doctor."

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he regretted them. Of all the things he could have said, why did it have to be something that reminded him so forcefully of the Master? He must have blanched, because the Time Lord swiftly stood by his side.

"Jack? What's wrong?"

Belatedly, he recalled the reference, and his face took on that regretful countenance that the former conman inwardly cringed to see. "I'm sorry, Captain. I shouldn't have given you any reason to doubt me yesterday. I think Emma has the right of it. That bastard shouldn't even be named."

Growing even more somber, he added, "Unfortunately, we've got more than enough problems with living psychopaths at the moment."

"Marshall's a moron." Jack responded with more bravado than he actually felt.

Before the Doctor could reply, the doorbell rang. Refusing to meet the Captain's eyes, he yanked open the drawer that contained a loaded automatic pistol.

"Go back to the bedroom and keep Melissa safe. My brother's already put in an appearance."

There wasn't time to argue. He sprinted to the bedroom, grabbing his Webley from the table and placing himself in front of the bed where Melissa continued to snore softly in sleep.

Yanking open the front door, the Doctor stood to the side, wondering who would be brazen enough in the early morning to ring the bell without calling in advance.

The Brigadier observed the Doctor pointing a gun at him and took it all in stride. "I'm hardly the Big, Bad Wolf, Doctor, but I must commend you on your caution. Back in the day, you would have blithely opened the door just to see what sort of trouble you could have gotten yourself into."

"Back in the day, I didn't have to worry about Jack, Emma and our two unborn children, Alistair." Inviting his friend inside, he asked, "I take it this isn't merely a social call?"

"Hardly, although I did want to see for myself that Captain Harkness was recovering from his gunshot wound. From the amount of blood UNIT found on the floor, there was a concern that his injury was grave indeed. And, I come with an official apology from the Prime Minister. He wishes to assure the Time Lord High Council that the actions of one deranged man in a coffee shop do not reflect the opinions of the vast majority of the citizens of the United Kingdom. He deeply regrets the attack on one of Gallifrey's ambassadors."

"I'm sure he does." Hanging up the lightweight jacket his friend had been wearing, the Doctor grinned sardonically. "Well, Alistair, it sounds like they rousted you out of bed early this morning. Care for some caffeine?"

"And why do you assume I slept at all, eh, Doctor? Information from the raids trickled in all night long."

Still holding the Webley, Jack took a few steps forward. "I don't know about him, but I can believe you pulled an all-nighter. You look like hell, Alistair."

"At my age, Captain, I'll take that as a compliment." Then, he pointed his cane accusingly at Jack. "You, however, look much better than I expected. Are you certain you're not still immortal?"

"He was lucky."

The Doctor's rebuttal was harsh enough to briefly silence both men. Wanting to smooth over the ensuing awkward pause, Jack gave Sir Alistair a self-deprecating eye roll. "He's right. I was lucky, and I look much better than I feel. Several hours under the tissue regenerator has left me embarrassingly exhausted. I didn't even have the energy to think lewd thoughts yesterday."

"For which we should all be grateful," the Doctor said automatically.

Once Jack and Leftbridge-Stewart were comfortably seated in the den, each with a coffee in hand, the Time Lord abandoned all pretense of frivolity. "So, Alistair, I take it you're here to discuss Marshall's continued liberty?"

Heatedly, his friend's voice shook with ill concealed rage. "That man is a disgrace to UNIT and should never have been freed in the first place. It is preposterous to think that he has nothing to do with the attacks against Time Lords."

"I can't agree more. However, an hour ago the FBI was ordered to stop all surveillance. Marshall's gone on telly arguing that Earth First is a political organization, and that he's being persecuted for his political beliefs. The President doesn't want the bad publicity if the surveillance were discovered."

"You didn't tell me that." Jack couldn't believe his ears. That sick psychopath couldn't be allowed to roam free.

"I didn't have time. Besides, you're the one who requested caffeine before bad news."

"Relations between the United Nations and America have been frosty since President-elect Winters was killed, Doctor. I don't believe the Secretary General will be able to change the President's mind."

"Unfortunately, I know that all too well. I plan on making an official protest at the White House on behalf of Gallifrey later today, but I don't pretend that it will have any effect." Earnestly, he added, "I really don't know what else to do, Alistair. I'm going to contact the Home Office to ask he be put on the restricted list, but that's woefully inadequate. We have to keep Emma safe."

"Doctor," the Brigadier reluctantly answered. "I've hesitated to say this, but there might be a way to return Marshall to jail for good this time."

"How?"

As delicately as he could, he explained. "That reprobate was convicted of conduct unbecoming an officer and insubordination. There is another, more serious charge, for which he could be convicted, but I have been hesitant to suggest it."

Jack instantly understood just what the old soldier was trying to say. Speaking flatly, he said, "You're suggesting charging him with sexual assault."

"Yes."

The Doctor thought the idea was less than ideal. "But, she'd have to testify at trial in the United States."

"I'm afraid so, Doctor. You would have to testify as well. That's precisely why I have been loath to suggest it."

"No," Jack said forcefully. "Not just no, but hell no. We keep promising her everything's going to be alright, and we keep breaking our promise. I refuse to put her in a position where she has to face Marshall, of all people. Damn it, she collapsed yesterday from the stress! I'll kill that bastard long before I ask either one of you to face him, Doc."

Neither man appeared to be shocked by Jack's outburst. In fact, Brigadier Leftbridge-Stewart admitted he'd been thinking along the same lines. "Believe me, Captain; I've been sorely tempted to say, 'Will not someone rid me of this man?' more than once. Fortunately for me, UNIT doesn't work like that."

"But Torchwood could."

"Jack." The Doctor didn't raise his voice; he didn't need to. The Captain could hear the command behind the utterance of his name.

"Fine, I won't have Marshall killed, as tempting as that might be." He neglected to mention that he would happily kill Marshall himself, given half a chance. From the look the Doctor shot him, he understood that the Time Lord knew full well he'd given himself a rather large loophole.

Deciding he'd talk to Jack about Marshall later, the Doctor changed the topic. "Speaking of things we're loath to discuss, I need to know exactly what UNIT found on the Valiant, Alistair. The gun we confiscated from Earth First contained a compound that isn't discovered until the fifty-first century. Right now, we're assuming it was given to the organization by a time traveler, but if the Master had it on the Valiant, I'm afraid that fact would widen the suspect list considerably."

"What type of compound, old chap? The weapon we found in Canada contained nothing more than trace amounts of aspirin and a common sedative."

"There wasn't an unknown compound that causes paralysis of the heart?"

"Not unless it's undetectable. The chemists have been working all night on the composition of the solution that was found in Canada. There's no trace of anything but aspirin and valium.

"I don't like the sound of that, Doc."

The possibilities ran through the Doctor's mind faster than he could blink, and he didn't like the implications any more than Jack did. Ignoring that line of reasoning for the moment, he again addressed the Brigadier. "Can you give me access to the inventory of what was found on the Valiant?"

"I can do better than that, Doctor. All of the items confiscated from the Valiant are in a storage room at UNIT HQ. You can search for yourself."

"All the items, Brigadier?" Jack's question was voiced with a healthy dose of skepticism.

The old soldier thought for a moment, and then his face turned ashen. "Of course not. UNIT's had scientists pouring over the remnants of the Master's various experiments for almost a year. There's no telling how many unknown items have been parceled out to the various agencies for study."

His hand trembling, Sir Alistair Gordon Leftbridge-Stewart reached into his pocket and took out a small bottle of pills. Slipping one under his tongue, he slowly relaxed as the color returned to his face. Before Jack or the Doctor could comment, he held up his hand.

"Please, spare me the lecture. I get enough of that from Doris. UNIT is still recovering from the losses it suffered during the Dalek attack, and, while I realize you once told me I was going to die peacefully in bed, Doctor, the older I get, the less comfort I take in that thought. At least I'm doing something that matters at the moment. There's something to be said for dying for a cause."

"Alistair—"

Rising slowly with the aid of his cane, the old soldier smiled as he interrupted the Time Lord. "I'm far from dead yet. Besides, I think you have enough to worry about just now without my adding to it."

"Of course."

Returning the Brigadier's jacket, the Doctor did his best to hide his dismay. He'd known Alistair since his second life. During the Time War he'd had taken comfort in the fact that at least someone he cared about would remember him fondly. Frankly, he'd expected to die before Leftbridge-Stewart on numerous occasions, which was no doubt the reason he was having a difficult time accepting the man's obvious infirmity.

"Take care, Alistair."

If the Brigadier noticed the finality in the Doctor's tone as he wished him well, he didn't show it. Nor did he comment on the fact that Jack saluted him before he walked out the door. In fact, there was a mischievous sparkle in his eyes as he turned to them a final time before letting his driver open his door.

"I'd tell you two to stay out of trouble, but I know I'd be wasting my breath. Do try to dodge a little quicker the next time, Captain Harkness. And, Doctor, I'm too old to become accustomed to a new face. As much as it pains you, keep the gun."

His advice elicited strained smiles from both men. However, as soon as Jack and the Doctor were once again alone in the den, the Time Lord's expression turned somber.

"He's not dead yet."

"With the stress he's under, he will be, sooner rather than later. A year? Three? And they'll be no stolen visits from my future self if Alistair dies while I'm here traveling on the slow path."

For a moment, Jack considered reminding the Doctor that everyone dies, but it was a trite answer to give a Time Lord, especially after his own brush with death the day before. Instead, he faced him with a wry grin. "Sucks being an ordinary mortal, doesn't it?"

It seemed to be the perfect response. The Doctor snorted at the irony. "You might have a point there, Captain."

The doorbell rang yet again. Not only did the Doctor pick up the gun he'd taken out earlier, but he put his arm out to ensure that Jack stayed behind him at all times. It was with extreme reluctance that the Captain did so.

Drocina saw the gun and promptly ignored it. So did Flavia, although she arched her eyebrows in question. Craning her neck to address Jack, the healer waited patiently outside for an invitation to enter. "How are you feeling today, Captain Harkness?"

"Like I went one too many rounds with a Judoon. You might as well come in, Drocina. You too, Flavia."

Then, casually taking the gun out of the Doctor's hands, he teased his bond mate. "So, are we living in the Gallifreyan embassy all of a sudden? 'Cause, I got to tell you, Doc, if we are, we're going to need more coffee. Might even have to hire Ianto to make it."

"I doubt Mr. Jones would fall for that, Jack. And, technically, the TARDIS is the embassy. It just so happens to be parked upstairs at the moment."

Impatiently, Flavia tapped her foot. She looked utterly ridiculous wearing a pink poodle skirt, white cardigan sweater and hot pink acrylic earrings, topknot firmly in place. "I don't care where the embassy is at the moment, Doctor. I came to see for myself that Emma is alright. Brax told me she collapsed yesterday."

Suppressing a grin at her outlandish outfit, Jack recalled that the unimposing woman in front of him was actually a powerful member of the Time Lord ruling elite. Friend or no friend, he was a little suspicious. "Is this an official visit, Flavia?"

"In a manner of speaking," she hedged. "Officially, the High Council has no knowledge of her collapse. Unofficially, rumors are running rampant throughout the Citadel and beyond that she is unwell. Chancellor Amathow attempted to recall her while Lord Braxiatel was absent, but the Lord President summarily vetoed the motion. I thought if I could speak with her as a friend, then perhaps I could put an end to the rumors."

"I thought Amathow was the one who hated her. Why would he care if she was ill?" Time Lord politics gave Jack a headache. It was bad enough sparring with the Doctor's brother, and he was supposedly on their side.

"He hates **you**, Jack." The Doctor quickly corrected his assumption. "And, possibly, the human child Emma carries. But, that doesn't mean he wants anything to happen to our daughter. Don't ever forget how important she will be as a symbol of renewal to the Time Lords. If something were to happen to her, and by extension, Emma, then all of Gallifrey would mourn."

Mentally and physically exhausted, Jack unashamedly plopped down onto the sofa as he digested that information. "So, it's unlikely a Time Lord gave Earth First the digilitum."

"I wouldn't jump to that conclusion." Flavia looked at him apologetically. "Killing the Doctor would force the High Council to sever diplomatic relations with Earth, and possibly the annexation of the territory in Brazil that houses the TARDIS nursery. At the very least, the death of the young ones would bring the issue of dual citizenship into question once more."

Before Jack could pose a question or mention that there had been no digilitum found in Canada, the doorbell rang for the third time that morning.

"Blimey, it's like Grand Central Station today."

For all his joviality, Jack couldn't help but notice that the Doctor still picked up the gun. As the door opened on Donna, she took one look at it and pushed it to the side.

"Spooked much, Spaceman?" Then, she pulled him into a hug before walking up to Jack. "Thanks for saving my life yesterday, handsome. I definitely owe you."

If Jack hadn't been so worn out, he would have jumped up and given her a passionate kiss. As it was, his smile dazzled. "It was worth it just to have you call me handsome, Donna. Besides, I told you I didn't want you as a field agent."

She wholeheartedly agreed. "You can say that again. I am definitely sticking to the Hub from now on. Bullets are a little too much excitement for me, thank you very much."

Belatedly, she brusquely acknowledged the two women standing to the side. "Have you examined Melissa yet, Drocina? Good to see you again, Flavia. Shouldn't you be dressed a little more inconspicuously? That poodle skirt went out with the 1950's."

Donna's usual bluntness spurred Drocina into action. Without a word, the healer disappeared up the stairs. Flavia actually was flustered enough to glance at her clothes before offering to return at a more convenient time.

"You might as well wait now," Donna answered, gesturing to a wingback chair as if she lived there.

Predictably, the doorbell rang as soon as the bemused Time Lord obediently sat down. With undisguised irritation, the Doctor gripped the automatic pistol and stalked to the entrance.

Ianto Jones held two large bags in his hands. "I assure you, the pastries aren't dangerous, Doctor."

For a moment, the Doctor stared at him blankly, and then he realized that he still held the gun. Hastily, he put it down. Relieving Ianto of one of the bags, he steered him towards the kitchen.

"I hope you brought enough for a crowd."

Nodding, Ianto dumped out the leftover coffee and began to make a fresh pot. He thought Jack would need his special brand of caffeine after yesterday. At least, that's what he'd decided pacing around his flat at three in the morning as he worried about his former lover. The pastries had been an afterthought.

As the Doctor asked him if he'd spoken to Martha, the doorbell rang once again. This time, the Time Lord smiled in defeat as he jogged to the door. He didn't bother picking up the gun.

When he took in the man before him, he wished he had. John Hart was standing on the porch, a far too smug expression on his face. "Bet I get more than sixty seconds now."

Jaw clenched, the Doctor moved backwards, grudgingly letting the Time Agent enter.

"What do you want, John?" Calling out from his seat on the sofa, Jack's voice was like steel.

Sitting down uncomfortably close to his former partner, Hart blatantly caressed Jack's thigh. "I told you I wanted a job, didn't I? Thought you might have an opening, seeing as how your arm's patched up worse than Frankenstein's."

Ignoring John's wandering hands, Jack pulled off his shirt. "Just so you know, my arm's fine. And we're not hiring."

"Tissue regenerator. Nice. Wouldn't have thought you'd have access to something so sophisticated. Or did it fall through the Rift? You know, we could run a pretty good salvage operation for the stuff you find. I could broker the deals and you could retrieve the artifacts."

Surprised at his inventiveness, Hart feigned shock. "Hey, that's almost legit. I mean, it's not like anyone's going to claim the stuff. Finders keepers, isn't that what you always say, Jacky-boy?"

Walking into the den with a tray of coffee mugs, Ianto glared at the man who was doing his best to fondle Jack even as the Welshman's eyes strayed to his boss' sculpted chest. Walking confidently towards them, he pointedly ignored Hart.

"Yours is the one closest to you, sir. I thought you might appreciate a little extra caffeine this morning."

"Thanks, Ianto."

As the archivist and sometimes tea boy carried the tray to Donna and Flavia, Jack caught the Doctor's eye and did his best not to laugh. Ianto had done everything but mark his territory in front of Hart, no matter that Jack was no longer his in that way. Even his ex-partner got the message, putting a few inches of space between them on the sofa.

"No coffee for me, Eye Candy?"

Handing the Doctor a cup of tea, Ianto scowled at the man who had caused Torchwood so much pain. "I wasn't aware you were staying."

Bemused at the byplay, Flavia interrupted. "Excuse me, but who is this person? He seems to be dressed rather inappropriately for the period."

The morning truly had been much too stressful, and the Doctor found he couldn't hide his amusement any longer. A manic grin stole over his face. "Planning on giving him fashion lessons, Flavia?"

She was not amused. "Hardly, Doctor. Correct me if I am mistaken, but those weapons are not usually worn so casually in the early twenty-first century, and he reeks of the Vortex. He's obviously some sort of cut rate time traveler. Perhaps he does, indeed, require some fashion advice."

"Cut rate? Lady, I'll have you know I was once a Time Agent, one of the best in fact. I can ride the Vortex with pinpoint accuracy, unlike Jacky-boy here who can't even bounce properly."

"A Time Agent? Well, that makes perfect sense."

Purposefully, Flavia strode towards the Doctor, stopping at the table where he had deposited the automatic. Picking it up, she reached Hart in four long strides, pulling him upright by the scruff of his jacket. She looked ridiculous doing so in her poodle skirt, but managed to convey the seriousness of the situation by pressing the gun against his temple.

"Tell me, where did you get the digilitum?"

"Digilitum?

Even Donna couldn't help but notice that Hart's puzzlement came a beat too late. Incensed, Jack pulled out John's sword and put it against his neck, pressing it hard enough against the skin that droplets of blood beaded along the blade.

"I should have known you wouldn't tell me the truth when a lie would do. The Time Agency's still around, my ass. You're going to tell me where you got it, who you sold it to, and why."

"Shit! Not if you decapitate me before I can tell you! That blade's made out of diamond sharpened Dalekanium. Push any harder and it will go through me like butter."

"Right now, that's looking like my best option. Talk fast."

"Jack."

He didn't spare a glance for the Doctor, but he did let his irritation show. "What, Doc? Don't you dare tell me to take it easy on this sorry excuse for a human being. If he knows anything about the digilitum, we need to know about it."

"Actually, I was going to suggest we do this in the TARDIS. Technically, it's Gallifreyan soil, and Time Lord prisoners aren't afforded the same rights as those in British custody."

Flavia agreed matter-of-factly. "The Lord Doctor is correct, Captain Harkness. This man appears to be nothing more than human. I assure you either myself or the Doctor could easily take the information from his mind."

After a pregnant pause, she added almost dismissively, "It's a shame the technique leaves the subject with significant brain damage, but I understand Torchwood runs a facility to care for people with such injuries. We could have him there within minutes."

In the midst of Flavia's explanation, Drocina walked through the den to the kitchen, reappearing a moment later with a plate full of pastries. Ignoring the drama, she marched back upstairs without comment.

Captain John Hart's eyes widened in fear. "Mind ripping is outlawed by the Shadow Proclamation! You wouldn't dare!"

Ianto couldn't refrain from opening his mouth. "It's my understanding that the Time Lords aren't signees of the Shadow Accords. Is that correct, Doctor?"

"Yep," he replied, loudly popping his 'p' as casually as if they were discussing football scores. "One of the nice things about being a myth, really. You're not asked to sign many treaties."

Nonchalantly taking out his sonic screwdriver, he pointed it at Hart. With a loud bang and fizz, the man's Vortex Manipulator shorted out. "Just in case you decided to risk decapitation by teleporting."

Cornered, Hart tried flattery. "Look at you, Jacky-boy! No wonder you weren't worried about the Agency. Not when you've got actual Time Lords at your beck and call. I admit I'm impressed. I should have known if anyone could have found them, it would have been you. I mean, you were obsessed with the possibility of their existence while you were at the Agency. In fact, we all thought you were a little crazy, but, hell, who isn't these days?"

Jack had no recollection whatsoever about his claimed obsession, but he didn't waste time trying to uncover the past when the present was so dangerous. He pressed the sword fractionally harder against his ex-partner's throat. "You've got two choices, John, and you know what they are. I suggest you choose one, or I'm going for option C. Who knows, maybe they can get the information from your mind after your head's been severed."

John Hart studied the eyes of everyone in the room, and didn't see a hint of mercy from anyone. Defeated, he gingerly pushed the sword away from his body. Sitting down on the sofa, he tightly clutched his neck.

"Fuck it, you're all crazy. I'll tell you what I know, but it isn't much."

When all he did was stare sulkily for a few seconds, Jack warned, "I said talk fast, remember?"

At that, he seriously considered pulling his gun and going out in a blaze of glory, but it suddenly made a sizzling noise. Glumly, he knew that his fantasy was no longer an option.

"First off, you're wrong about two things. The Time Agency does exist, and I didn't have anything to do with the digilitum. I've been on the run for almost a year now, hiding out in a few unsavory places where anything can be had for a price. About three months ago, linearly, I was on Avarice, staying with a chemist who owed me a favor. He's been trying unsuccessfully to mask the flavor of digilitum for years. Always told me he could die a rich man if he managed to make the poison tasteless. I tried to tell him that kind of thinking would get him killed, but he's not the listening type. Kind of like you lot, now that I think about it."

"There's still option C."

Shooting Jack an incredibly annoyed look, he continued talking. "Anyway, he always keeps plenty of the stuff around. In fact, he manufactures it because he goes through so much doing his experiments. I guess he owed someone else a favor because he made a small batch using a DNA sequencer. Took almost a week to cook it up, but he didn't charge a thing."

Hart looked smug, as if he'd just given them the key to the entire puzzle, but Jack wasn't impressed. "Your point?"

"Don't play dumb, Jack, it's not attractive on you. My point is that he used a triple stranded DNA pattern when concocting this batch. After listening to your never ending rants about Time Lords during our glory days, I can guess they were the intended target. It doesn't take a genius to figure out you're somehow connected since your pet Time Lords are the ones asking me about it."

"We're far from pets, Captain Hart, and I advise you to reconsider your tale. You don't honestly expect us to believe that you happen to know about the digilitum and then happened to end up here."

Studying the mature woman sporting the strange looking clothes and even stranger hair, the ex-Time Agent deflated. There was no mercy in her calculating eyes. "Fine. You want to hear the truth? You won't believe me."

"Try us, Sunshine."

Resentfully, he did just that. "That part happened just like I said. Walsh was burnt to a crisp in the fire, and I was lucky to get away with my life. I assumed it was the Time Agency, but they were one of Walsh's best buyers, and it didn't make any sense. I kept my head down and my back to the door, hopping from spaceport to spaceport looking for a way to earn some credits while keeping under the radar."

"I'd made enough credits to enjoy a night at the local watering hole, when this scary bleached blonde appeared next to me like she's teleported in, but she's not wearing a wrist strap."

"Describe her," the Doctor suddenly demanded, his tone one that no sane person would think to question.

Sane or not, Hart had a highly developed sense of self-preservation. "Like I said, she was bleached blonde, wearing a pink top that didn't show enough cleavage. Little heavy on the makeup, but her ass more than made up for that."

Not noticing the Doctor's reaction, he carelessly continued. "Scary, 'cause her eyes were glowing and my Vortex Manipulator was screaming with some kind of alarm I'd never heard before. She offered to erase me from the Time Agency's database if I agreed to warn Torchwood about the digilitum. Since we're talking about Jack, here, I figured it would be easy. As soon as I agreed, she disappeared, and I would have chalked it all up to one too many hypervodkas, but everyone else in the bar had seen her too."

"Go," the Doctor suddenly ordered, his voice shaking with rage. Pointing the sonic screwdriver again at Hart, he fixed the man's teleport.

"What?"

"I said go. You've done what you were told to do, and I don't want to see you here again."

"But the Time Agency-"

"I'm sure you delayed long enough to make sure she did as promised. But, if you don't leave this instant, I'll contact them myself."

Hastily, Hart punched some coordinates into his Vortex Manipulator, but left Jack with a parting shot. "You'd better keep your pets on a short leash, Jack. Walsh made four doses of the digilitum, and I know you didn't find the rest yesterday."

Before anyone could ask him how he knew that, he disappeared.

Flavia looked at the Doctor knowingly. "Well, that was enlightening. Although, not in the way I had expected. You realize I have to share this with the Council?"

"There's nothing to share," he told her with a hard edge to his voice. "The man's a habitual liar. I wouldn't trust him if he told me that fire was hot."

"I'm sorry, Doctor, but I must inform them. This is far too serious to cover up."

"If you do, they'll recall us," he warned. "Please, at least talk to Brax before you do anything else."

Glancing at the hostile expressions of everyone in the room, she begrudgingly acquiesced. "Very well, Doctor. I will speak to Brax and allow him to decide if the rest of the High Council should be informed."

"Thank you, Flavia. You're a good friend."

She kissed him fondly on the cheek. "And you're far too skilled in the art of flattery and manipulation. Are you sure you won't consent to serve as president once again?"

When he refused with a grin, she shook her head in defeat. "Farewell, Doctor. Tell Emma that I am sorry I missed her. As for you, Captain Harkness, I see that your taste in friends has improved drastically. Let's hope for all our sakes that it stays that way."

She left before he could protest that Captain John Hart might be many things, but friend wasn't one of them.


	23. Confinement

Author's Notes - This chapter begins directly where the previous one ended. Flavia has just left after finding out the John Hart had had an encounter with someone that suspiciously resembled the Bad Wolf. I apologize if if seems a little choppy. The first two scenes might fit better in the last chapter, but I didn't want to make one too long and the other too short. Hope you enjoy.

Thanks to **dwatlaskrhtcm** and **TheGirlWithTheOnyxRos**e for reviewing. Nice to hear from both of you!

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><p>As Flavia left, an uncomfortable silence fell over the group. Trying to break it, Donna quietly addressed the Doctor, whose jaw was tightly clenched with ill-concealed rage.<p>

"I'm sure the Bad Wolf was simply trying to help, Spaceman."

His anger exploded, manifesting itself as a heated rant.

"Help, Donna? Like she helped Emma on Gallifrey? Branding her as her own and manipulating her like a puppet on a string? Or like she helped Jack? She clearly could have chosen to bring him back properly the first time, but instead she made him suffer for centuries. And for what? So he could die when it was most convenient for her? She's tarnished what should have been a joyful time for the three us. Do you think Jack or I would have ever risked Emma's health like this? Or pushed her to have one child, let alone two, so soon after losing Susan, Matthew and Joy? And, now she sends that idiot to warn us of something we already know? What if he triggers her memories of the Time Agency? What will happen then? You saw what happened to her yesterday!"

"Doc-"

"What?"

He snapped testily at Jack, who had put a restraining hand on his arm, but it was already too late. Melissa stood speechless at the bottom of the stairs. Seeing that she was the center of attention, she belatedly tried to smile, but it was a weak attempt at best.

As Drocina stood anxiously beside her, she walked self-consciously into the den. She wore a new pair of brown trousers and an emerald green cashmere tunic that hugged her stomach. Her damp hair curled past her shoulders, and for once, her cheeks had a bit of color in them.

"You look lovely, Emma. How are you feeling?"

She ignored both the Doctor's compliment and question to pose a wry question of her own. "So, anything I should know about?"

Ianto had to briefly turn away, lest he crack a smile at her studied innocence. Donna didn't bother; she snorted nervously. Expectantly, Melissa waited for the Doctor's reply, but her eyes kept straying to Jack, as if to convince herself that he was as well as he appeared.

"That depends on how much you want to know, Em."

Grudgingly, she let Drocina lead her to the recliner before answering. Even with her feet up, she managed to convey her resolve quite well. "I think anything that pertains to the Bad Wolf counts as need to know, Doc. I couldn't help but overhear that she was the topic of conversation."

No one answered until Drocina gave an imperceptible nod of permission. Shooting an apologetic look at Ianto, the Doctor suggested he take some pastries to Martha and Mickey, but the archivist respectfully declined.

"Unlike Gwen, I am aware of the Bad Wolf, Doctor. I would prefer to stay. I'm sure Jack can vouch for my discretion."

"And a whole lot of other things," the Captain joked tiredly. "It's okay, Doc. Ianto's most likely pieced together enough from your tirade to have a fair idea of what's going on."

"As have I, Captain Harkness." Drocina was deeply troubled. "All three of you are taking quite a risk. Is this the reason you questioned my adherence to the healers' oath?"

Impatient, Melissa brusquely confirmed the healer's suspicions. "Yes, now can we get on with the explanation? What does that moron have to do with the Bad Wolf?"

"She sent him," the Doctor answered unwillingly.

Melissa thought about it. Then, she thought about it again. "Why would she do something so incredibly stupid?"

"He was supposed to warn us about the digilitum, but he screwed that up as usual." Jack's dismissive tone indicated he thought the idea as ludicrous as she.

It took her a moment for the explanation to sink in. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't make sense of it. "I don't know whether to be petrified or insulted, so I'm going to pretend it didn't happen. Unless you object, Doc?"

"Emma, this might be one of the few times when sticking your head in the sand would be of benefit. In fact, I might have to follow your example-for the sake of my sanity if nothing else."

"And if Hart shows up again, Spaceman?"

"Then he'd better hope his warning is more timely, Donna. For John Hart, I might have to revive my rule of no second chances."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Melissa waited until she was alone with Jack to mention Hart again. They were lounging lazily in the back garden, basking in the rays of the late summer sun per Drocina's orders. Donna was inside with the Doctor, trying to determine how to fulfill his official duties without resorting to time travel. Ianto and Drocina had left for Martha and Mickey's a few hours earlier, promising to call later that evening to update them on Martha's condition.

"Jack?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you awake?"

"Can I say no?"

"You could, but your response would negate the answer."

"I guess I'm awake, then."

She absently played with the bottom of her tunic, not sure if she should even bring up what had occurred on the Plass. "Something funny happened when I talked to Hart."

"Oh?" His lazy tone immediately changed to one of interest.

"Yeah, I called him Agent Ninety-six. It seemed to disturb him."

Sitting up, he anxiously tried to study her expression, but she had turned away from him. "I never told you that. Are you trying to tell me he was one of your jailors?"

"I don't know," she admitted with great reluctance. "It just popped out of my mouth. And then, I heard the Doctor mention something about him triggering my memories of the Time Agency."

He could feel her sudden anxiety and, strangely, more than a hint of shame. "Sweetheart?"

Twisting her tunic, she finally met his gaze. Her emerald eyes were filled with self-doubt. "You two would tell me if my brain injury was worsening, wouldn't you? I'm not losing memories, am I?"

Of all the stupid-they'd been so scared she'd put two and two together; they hadn't even considered she might come up with three. He sat on the edge of her lounger so she couldn't miss the sincerity in his gaze. "You're not losing memories. Your brain damage is stable, but Drocina can scan you again if you're worried about it."

Before she could think to ask him what the Doctor had actually meant, he leaned over and captured his mouth with hers, kissing her ardently until she was too flustered to remember much at all.

"I thought Drocina ordered an end to that." Her protest was perfunctory at best, and Jack chuckled, extremely pleased that he'd brought a glow to her cheeks.

"Kissing's like breathing. It's good for you."

"That sounds like a challenge," she dared, the question of John Hart already pushed back to a far corner of her mind.

"One we'll have to explore more fully after you deliver. Sorry, Sweetheart."

Beaming, she teased. "You mean sex isn't a cure-all?"

That brought back fond memories. "I wish Owen were here. Can you imagine how stressed he'd be trying to deal with the thought of twins? He'd have blistered the Doc's ears by now with all the cussing."

She found that mental image so funny that tears ran down her face as she laughed. "And, we would have been forced to tell him about the Bad Wolf because he would have threatened to castrate you both for getting me pregnant with twins in the first place."

Laughing along with her, he could imagine Owen threatening the very thing. "God, I miss him."

Sobering, she decided she wouldn't get a better chance. "I miss him, too. I was thinking that, maybe, we could name our son Owen?"

A funny lump formed in his throat, and when he kissed her this time, it was loving and tender. "Yeah, that sounds like the perfect choice. I think the Doc will even go for it if you give him the middle name Alistair. What do you think?"

She tried the name out loud. "Owen Alistair Harkness. I think it sounds perfect."

Later, the Doctor had to agree. From then on, they referred to their unborn son as Owen.

* * *

><p>"I convinced Flavia not to say anything to the Council."<p>

The Doctor watched his brother eye the leftovers of the roast and potatoes Sylvia Noble had thoughtfully delivered the day before. His t-shirt was rumpled and his eyes showed telltale signs of fatigue. Concerned, he wondered when Brax had last slept.

"Burning the candle at both ends?"

"More like both ends and the middle," he replied with a grimace. "None of this makes any sense. A majority of the young ones have returned home, and Amathow's lost what little support he had, although he's certainly bitter. It makes no sense for any faction to have provided Earth First with the digilitum. With the poison in the hands of those extremists, there would always be that risk that Emma would be harmed, and I can't think of a single person that-"

He blanched as he reconsidered that statement, and the Doctor was quick to pick up on his abrupt change in mood.

"What?"

But Brax wasn't about to voice his suspicion. It was simply too ludicrous. He must be much more exhausted than he thought. "Nothing, even I get too paranoid sometimes, Doc. No Time Lord would ever consider harming Emma."

Studying his brother, the Doctor begrudgingly accepted his explanation. Moving on, he asked, "What about the Time Agency?"

"They're corrupt enough, I'll give you that. But according to what Hart told you, they regularly dealt with the supplier. Why kill him? Besides, if they ever decide to acknowledge our existence, I think they'd attempt an attack on the timeline. They're arrogant enough to think they might succeed."

Leaning against the counter, he handed Brax a plate so he could eat the leftovers. "So, you believe Hart's story, then?"

"To a certain extent. I can't help but think he's holding something back, but I believe he had an encounter with the Bad Wolf. Although, she certainly wasn't at her best that day. Of all the people she could have picked, Hart's the worst choice by far."

"I have a theory about that, actually."

"Oh?"

"Towards the end, the power of the Time Vortex had almost overwhelmed Rose. By the time I took it out of her, she could barely control it. I think this is the Bad Wolf's last gasp."

"Let's hope so, because she's caused enough trouble as it is."

He let his brother eat in peace for a few minutes before continuing the speculation. "So, if it's not one of us or the Time Agency, who do you think is responsible?"

"I've got my agents investigating the usual suspects, but the list is too long to pick a favorite. If you and the Emissary weren't in harm's way, I'd wonder about the Arcadians, but she's a savior to them, and you aren't too far behind."

"I hear the resettlement's going well."

"It is. There have been few problems, and those have been easily resolved. The victims of the final battle are living on an island in the Southern Sea, and the others are busy searching for an acceptable new planet to make their home."

Scraping the plate with his finger to get the last of the potatoes, Brax managed a fair imitation of a smile. "How goes the ambassadorship?"

The Doctor wanted to complain and tell his brother what an inconvenience it was, but instead he recited the bare facts. "I have my first official function tomorrow morning, a reception in my honor in Pakistan. Then, I have an audience in India, and an official exchange of diplomatic letters in Afghanistan. For the next two weeks, I'll be travelling throughout Asia and the Middle East. It should be mildly interesting. After that, I'm headed to South America."

For once, Brax was too weary to needle the Doctor about his new responsibilities. "Good. Remind Brazil that we are posting additional guards at the nursery." Putting his plate in the sink, he added, "Tell Emma I didn't want to wake her."

"You know, you're welcome to kip on the sofa anytime. It looks like you could use a few hours."

"Thanks, but I've got to get back. Romana has me under surveillance, and if I don't answer my door, she's liable to attach a video link to my quarters. I'd hate to have to acknowledge her intrusiveness."

"I thought you and she were together?"

"We are, but she knows my past as well as anyone. She's definitely the jealous type. I can't blame her for being suspicious, and I am going behind her back. It just happens to be politics rather than another tryst."

The Doctor looked troubled. "The Romana I knew wouldn't have done something like that."

Brax shook his head, dismissing his brother's concern. "Well, the Romana I know would. I just wish she wasn't so good at it. She's more possessive than I expected, and she hates to lose."

Bidding his brother goodbye, the Doctor briefly wondered about Romana's behavior before dismissing it. They'd all been changed in the Time War, for good and ill. As the CIA chief, Brax probably considered it a challenge, and would no doubt put an end to it if it become too much of a nuisance.

Turning out the light in the kitchen, he made his way to the bedroom. He was tired enough to sleep for a few hours. Besides, he knew Jack's back would be nice and warm.

xXxXxXxXxXxX

Over the next five weeks, Melissa's existence slowly shrank to the confines of their bedroom suite. The stress of the pregnancy increasingly took its toll on her body, to the point that Drocina finally ordered bed rest four weeks before her due date. Twice a day, she was hooked up to an IV as the young healer tried to keep her healthy enough to safely deliver.

It was an uphill battle, and the pregnant Time Lord occasionally teetered on the edge of depression. Her friends made sure that she was never alone, and did their best to entertain her whenever the Doctor and Jack might be busy. Donna taught her to knit, although she refused to say where she'd picked up that particular skill. Martha brought over autopsy reports, often asking for her opinion regarding particularly difficult Torchwood cases. Gwen nattered on about her own pregnancy, but Melissa could appreciate her friend's excitement, and was content merely to listen.

Ianto visited surprisingly often, always bringing a treat of some sort. He gave her a highly edited version of Torchwood's activities, glossing over any unpleasantness so effortlessly that she never suspected his revisions. Mickey sometimes dropped by with Martha, but he was often busy, and didn't do much more than say hello before returning to work.

Jack usually went into the Hub at night, when the Doctor was home and she slept. It was a rare occasion when one of them wasn't with her. With them, she seemed to have more control over her emotions, and her outlook was much more positive. The Doctor allowed exactly seven hours a day for his official duties, and spent the rest in Cardiff, going into the Hub only if it was absolutely necessary.

Drocina became an almost constant companion. No matter how much she liked the girl, the healer often irritated her when she trusted the medical scanner more than her patient. There were times when Melissa felt almost normal, and would have appreciated a walk in the garden, but those requests were categorically denied.

Every once in a while, Sarah Jane or the Brigadier dropped by. She enjoyed hearing about Luke and his friends, and relished listening to Sarah Jane's adventures. The Brigadier was always lively and talkative, but the Doctor's quiet anguish after each of his visits tore at her hearts.

Flavia checked on her from time to time, but she had a sneaking suspicion she did it at the High Council's behest. Her longtime friend was often distracted and somewhat distant. Brax was conspicuous by his absence, and she knew the Doctor worried.

Although Melissa was the one confined, it was the Doctor who felt caged. Six weeks of listening politely to politicians from around the globe had forcibly reminded him of all the reasons he did not stay in one place for any length of time. Invariably, they wanted favors, or assurances, or, more likely, technology they had no business possessing.

As he sampled the various ways humans had found to spice rice, flavor noodles or prepare potatoes, he dazzled the majority with his tales of space travel, all the while hinting at the possibilities without promising a thing. Benjamin Franklin would have been proud.

Jack continued to act as the Director of Torchwood, but it was now more of an onerous duty than a passion. Yes, he wanted to keep Cardiff and the rest of the world safe, and yes, he wanted to do so with as little risk to his team as possible. But, if he'd had a choice, he would have spent all of his waking hours with his wife.

He made no secret about it, and his friends more than understood. As much as possible, Ianto and Donna wrote up reports and met with UNIT and the various government agencies that considered Torchwood to be under their jurisdiction. He continued to lead them in the field, and he always put himself in the line of fire first. The thought of retiring once Melissa delivered, however, grew more and more appealing.

"Got damn bastard."

Martha turned, wondering what had made Melissa so upset. On the news, she saw David Marshall announcing his intention to run for the U.S. Senate in Colorado as an Earth First candidate. Hastily, she found the remote and switched off the telly. The medic agreed, the man was a bastard, but the pregnant Time Lord didn't need the stress of having to watch him play nice for the press.

"I'm sure they won't elect him."

"Good, because I'm not. Stupid apes."

"Melissa-"

She bit back a retort. "Present company excepted. Sorry, Martha, he makes me sick."

"He's a xenophobe. The public won't-"

She ruthlessly cut the physician off. "He is a sick psychopath who doesn't deserve to draw in air. Bad enough what he did to me, but I'd gladly kill him myself for what he did to Jack. Too bad his death on the Valiant didn't stick."

Martha got a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach as she made the connections. "He's the one who . . . ?"

"Raped me? You can say it, Martha. I don't mind. I'd shout it from the rooftops if I thought it would do any good, but I'm not human, so it probably doesn't even count. Can you imagine the trial? It'd be a circus, and it wouldn't be about him; it would end up being about me. So, instead of being in prison, he gets to run for the Senate. Well, if Americans are stupid enough to elect him, then I say they deserve whatever they get."

There was such vitriol in her voice that Martha grew concerned. "Melissa, you shouldn't-"

"Shouldn't what?" she demanded before bursting into tears.

Jack had felt her distress from the den. Running up the stairs, he appeared in the doorway just as she started to sob. Waving Martha away, he lay down in the bed beside his wife, cocooning her in his arms.

He'd been watching the news and thought he had a good idea of what had set her off. "I'll kill him right now if you ask me too."

His declaration stopped her tears like nothing else could. She knew with absolute certainty that he was deadly serious. Far from being horrified at the prospect, however, it gave her a certain level of comfort. He was willing to protect her, no matter what the cost.

Drying her eyes, she gave him a rueful, lopsided smile. "It's a good thing we have the Doctor to be our conscience."

There was no hint of lightheartedness in his expression when he answered. "He would get over it."

He might at that. The Doctor had been taking his over protectiveness to extremes. The house was now equipped with a security system that put Downing Street's to shame. The alarm had been routed through the Rift monitors, so all of Torchwood would know if something was amiss. He'd even suggested putting video surveillance in the house, but she'd put her foot down, and he'd finally given up trying to change her mind.

"If he ever makes the mistake of coming to Wales, you're more than welcome to. Until then, I think I'll stop watching the news."

"Well, there's always _Eggheads_."

"That's as boring as _Antiques' Road Show_." Poking him playfully in the chest, she teased. "I wish I hadn't thrown out Owen's porn."

"Good luck trying to get that past Drocina."

He'd expected her to make some sort of humorous retort, but her expression had gone blank.

"Melissa? Sweetheart?"

Slowly, she refocused, her eyes wide with wonder. "She's really testing her limits."

He could see the outline of their daughter's elbows and feet on Melissa's skin as they shot outward, but it wasn't anything he hadn't seen a hundred times before. "So she's kicking, she does that all the time."

"No, Jack." Wanting him to experience it for himself, she grabbed his hand. "She's testing her limits. She knows she's confined and I don't think she likes it. See?"

After a minute, he did. "Oh boy, she's definitely not a happy camper." Exuberant, he gave her a quick kiss. "I told you she was going to be a handful." Then, thinking of what it might mean, his exuberance was quickly replaced by anxiety. "Should I get Drocina? You're not due now."

"I'm not in labor now. She's learning, and getting frustrated, which is good, because I definitely don't want her to get the idea that she can stay. I'm ready to have my body to myself."

"Believe me, the Doc and I agree."

Snuggling against him as best she could with her gargantuan belly between them, she murmured in his ear. "And I told you, your frustration is entirely self-imposed."

"That's not what I meant, although it's something to look forward to. We know how miserable this is for you, Sweetheart. We want this to be over as much as you do. It won't be long now."

"Define long." She grinned when she said it, however.

He stayed beside her, chatting about the more benign items that had recently fallen through the Rift. It was easier to discuss work than life after she delivered. There was so much uncertainty attached to that particular event that not one of them was comfortable speculating.

If there were no complications, then Melissa's health would rapidly improve, but Drocina had been unable to predict how soon she would recover enough to regenerate. The changes made to her body to support a pregnancy wouldn't disappear overnight. Until they did, her regenerative ability would be severely restricted.

The fact that she would need to regenerate was undeniable. In the last few weeks, her beautiful auburn hair had been streaked with gray. Enough calcium had leeched from her bones to make her no stronger than a human. And most troubling of all, her hearts now pumped at only ninety-five percent capacity.

The healer had made the decision not to inform Melissa of her worsening health, although Jack suspected she knew. Any species that had enough control to stop their hearts on a whim must know when their body began to fail. Besides, she'd lately taken to reassuring him at odd times that change was good. The first time, he hadn't understood; the sixth, he'd threaded his fingers through her hair and kissed her until her hearts raced, assuring her that he'd love her no matter what. She seemed to relax after that.

Sometime between discussing the merits of Shanii tribal music and listening to him talk about Mickey's panic over Francine Jones' upcoming visit, she'd fallen asleep. Gently stroking her stomach, he thought their daughter might just try kicking her way out of the womb. If it would speed up the process, maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing.

* * *

><p>Three days later, Donna was watching Melissa put the finishing touches on a green, fuzzy knitted scarf when the clock alarm began to buzz. By now, Donna was just as skilled as Drocina at administering the bag of glucose. By the time she had it prepped, Melissa had put her knitting away, and was sitting docilely with her left arm held out. Within a minute, the glucose was pumping into her bloodstream, suffusing her with temporary tranquility.<p>

Donna did her best not to laugh as her friend lounged on the bed with a goofy grin on her face. The spike in glucose always gave her a pleasant high, at least for the first quarter hour.

"Want to watch some telly?"

"I don't know," she giggled. "Do you have any porn?"

"No way, Spacegirl."

"Yes, way!" The dimples on her cheeks were very prominent as she grinned at her friend's discomfort. "Oh well, human porn's pretty dull anyway."

"That doesn't help, thanks." But, her stern expression softened into a smile. "No telly, then. What do you think of your scarf?"

"Knitting's boring. Boring, boring, boring, boring." Then, she added brightly, "But my life's boring, so it doesn't matter. No running for me! Not even allowed to waddle much at the moment. I guess I should be grateful Drocina lets me up to go to the bathroom. Ooh, I am a beached starwhale! Or maybe that's narwhale—I get confused. I can't see my feet anymore, Donna. What do you think about that?"

"I think it's a good thing we don't record you when you're like this."

"Don't worry; I remember it afterwards. Wake up tired and embarrassed, like I've been out drinking, but it's not fair because I'm not allowed to go dancing, even in my head. Drocina doesn't understand the difficulty of that. I think she needs to get laid. Mind sex is fucking awesome! Oh, sorry, bad pun."

"Are you quite through?"

Hazily, Melissa stared at her friend. "Do you need to get laid, too, Donna?"

Trying not to laugh, Donna shook her head. "Can't seem to find the right man. Ianto's too young. Mickey's got Martha. And the Doctor would shoot me if I propositioned Jack. Everyone else seems too dull. Regular blokes go to work, go home; go to the pub, maybe, but they don't think about the bigger picture. They don't consider all that's out there."

"Ooh, you need a philosopher. I know! You and Brax would be perfect for each other. He certainly is fit this time around."

"I don't think so, Sunshine. I remember him staking the Doctor next to an ant hill just to teach him a lesson. Brax is a little bit too scary for me."

"Donna, the Doc deliberately added magnesium to his chemistry experiment. Of course, he got tied up near ants. Be glad Brax didn't pour honey all over him."

"He was six!"

"He made the thing blow up! It was lucky all he got was signed eyebrows. If his father had been there—"

She stopped speaking, the grin wiped from her face. They both knew what would have happened if the Doctor's father had witnessed that particular escapade. Suddenly everything wasn't so funny.

"You should ask the Doctor to show you how to partition some of his memories from your conscious thoughts. It must be difficult having certain things in your head."

"Drocina's already helping me do that, actually."

"Oh, good. That's perfect. She should be perfect for that. Um, Donna? Do you think you could turn on the TV?"

"Of course I can."

Turning on the telly, Donna left it on _Eggheads_. Usually Melissa complained, but she secretly enjoyed shouting out the answers before anyone else. This evening, however, she simply stared at the screen, lost in her own thoughts.

Out of the blue, she demanded. "I want chips. And not just any chips. I want hot, slightly greasy, over salty McDonald's French fries. One of those monster sizes that no one but a Time Lord should eat."

Donna stared incredulously at her friend. Although Drocina had her on a high calorie, high carbohydrate diet, it had been weeks since she'd expressed any real interest in food. "You want chips. From McDonald's."

"Oh, yeah. My mouth's watering just thinking about biting into one. You think I could talk the Doctor into taking the TARDIS? I really want them. Now."

Bemused by her odd behavior, Donna left to find the Doctor. He was on speaker phone with the White House Protocol Office, assuring them that he had no food allergies or restrictions, but ended the conversation quickly when he saw the troubled expression on her face.

"What's wrong, Donna?"

"Melissa has an odd request. She'd like a very large order of chips, specifically from McDonald's."

His face split into a wide grin. "Brilliant! I'll be right back."

Before Donna could ask him to explain himself, he had bounded into the TARDIS, which was parked in a cluttered corner of the small office. The ship dematerialized, and then immediately rematerialized in the exact same spot. The Doctor popped out holding a sack full of McDonald's fries.

"The old girl outdid herself. They're still hot. Donna, would you mind calling UNIT HQ to see if the Brigadier is attending the State Dinner at the White House? It would be nice to have a friend when Jack and I go into the lion's den."

"So long as afterwards you explain why your wife's craving has made you so happy."

He gave her a long-suffering look. "Exactly. Emma had a craving. Think about it, Donna."

It didn't take her long to figure it out. "Oh, I am such an idiot! Tell her to enjoy her chips. I'll let Drocina know."

Rudely ignoring Donna, the Doctor jogged to the bedroom. Sitting down beside Melissa, he held out the sack. "I understand you had a request?"

Practically ripping the sack out of his hands, she grabbed a few of the hot fries and sank her teeth into them. "Mm." She moaned in satisfaction. "These are perfect. Thanks, Doc."

"For you, anything. Tell me, though. Is this the first time our daughter's been able to affect you quite so dramatically?"

A blush of embarrassment crept from her neck to her cheeks as she continued to shovel fries into her mouth. "Oh, she is really something else. I didn't even realize what she was doing."

Chuckling, he patted her stomach. "I think I'd better make sure Owen's artificial womb is ready. She might be precocious enough to make an early appearance."

"It's not now," she answered with exaggerated patience before continuing to enjoy her snack.

"Didn't say it was. I meant it's good to be prepared. The TARDIS has a brand new room ready for the delivery. She's as excited as the rest of us"

"That beats the Hub. There's something a little depressing about delivering underground."

Her cheery disposition faded as she recalled the time she had delivered in the Hub. Understanding, the Doctor promised, "Everything's going to be fine, Emma."

"I know." Not wanting to get too emotional, she offered him one of her fries.

"Don't mind if I do."

Tasting it, he found a safer topic of discussion. "You know, I think McDonald's represents the best and worst of humanity. The ingenuity and perseverance it took to ensure that their product tastes the same from Iowa to Indonesia is really quite amazing. The idea that there's no room for diversity, however, is regrettable."

"Doc."

"Hmm?"

"Shut up and have another chip."

"Yes, ma'am."


	24. Fate is Rarely Kind

Author's Notes - This chapter is a bit of a rollercoaster ride, and it definitely has a cliffhanger ending. For some reason my scene breaks keep disappearing, so I had to resort to using lines bewteen scenes, which is why this chapter might look a little different. Thanks to **Way Worse Than Scottish** for reviewing the previous chapter.

* * *

><p>"Do you have to go?"<p>

Changing into his blue suit, the Doctor glanced at Melissa in surprise. "It would be quite a snub against the Americans if I don't, Em. Why? Is something wrong?"

She began to wring a section of her nightgown into a tight knot. "You'll have your mobile, though, won't you?"

Dropping his tie onto the dresser, he sat beside her, taking a moment to sense her emotions. She was apprehensive about something, but feeling slightly guilty at the same time. No wonder she was wringing her clothes.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, really. I feel . . . funny. And, well, I don't like it that you and Jack are both going to be gone. I guess I'm being stupid."

He ignored her attempt to downplay her fears. "Funny how so?

He could feel her surge of frustration. "I don't know. Just, strange, like my body's not my own anymore."

He tried to make light of it. "Of course you feel that way; you're currently sharing your body with two other people."

She didn't see the humor in his comment, and he quickly turned serious. "We're just a phone call away, Em. But, if you think you're about to go into labor, we'll both stay. The Planetary Defense Summit can get along without us."

"No, it can't. Besides, I'm not in labor. I just feel . . . ." She shrugged. It really was difficult to explain. "You'll drop everything and come back here if I need you?"

"I'll have the TARDIS here so quickly you won't have time to finish the call. Unless, you'd like to stay in the TARDIS? I'm sure Drocina would be more than happy with that arrangement."

She looked out the window at the drab autumn sky. "I'd like to listen to the rain, and see the sunshine if it decides to put in an appearance. And, your ship is good, but not that good. I'd prefer the real thing."

"Fair enough." With a growing sense of unease, he kissed her goodbye. "Jack and I won't be away any longer than necessary, Em. I promise."

"I know. I told you I was being stupid." Pointing her finger at him, she tried to lighten the tone. "Promise you'll be civil at the State Dinner. Don't be rude to the President."

"Don't worry, I'm not even sitting at the same table. There are over one hundred dignitaries invited. Jack, the Brig and I are sharing a table with two actors, a pop singer, and the Defense Minister of Bulgaria and his wife."

She smiled, thinking that the Brigadier was going to have his hands full. "Then, tell Jack no matter how much he thinks it's a good idea, no singing."

"I will."

Not wishing to drag out their goodbye any longer than he already had, the Doctor walked quickly downstairs. Jack was already waiting in the TARDIS along with the Brigadier, but he wanted to have a word with Drocina before he left. Unfortunately, the healer was not impressed by his concern.

"Doctor, no matter what the Emissary might think, she is not about to go into labor. The scan I took this morning shows nothing to indicate such a thing is imminent, and I don't need to remind you that she is not due for eighteen days. I know that Earth First unnecessarily upsets her. Perhaps she is simply being dramatic in an effort to get you to stay. Besides, you'll have the TARDIS. If for some reason she needs you, you can be here within minutes."

He bristled at the thought of his wife being purposefully dramatic, and had to stifle his impulse to berate the young woman for jumping to conclusions. Unfortunately, the summit was too important to skip without cause, and a vague feeling didn't constitute sufficient cause. At least he had the TARDIS. He and Jack could be back in a matter of minutes—faster, if the need was great enough.

"Thank you for your opinion, Drocina. Don't wait to call us if you think it's necessary. Jack and I would rather err on the side of caution."

She could hear the censure in his voice, although it didn't upset her nearly as much as it would have a few months ago. "Doctor I'm a healer. I invariably err on the side of caution. Rest assured I shall contact you and the Captain the minute it becomes necessary."

"Thank you."

He had to bite his tongue to refrain from saying anything else. Reiterating his request would only unnecessarily antagonize her. He had learned some diplomacy in the last few weeks. Walking into the TARDIS, however, he couldn't shake his continued sense of unease.

* * *

><p>"Wow, Doc, I haven't stayed in a suite this lavish since I ran a con on the Grand Duke of Schwarvva."<p>

Relieved to see the TARDIS had been delivered to the suite without incident, the Doctor grinned. He hadn't heard of the particulars of that con before, but he could guess. "Promise to marry his daughter, did you?"

"Might have gone through with it too if Caccid females weren't known for eating their mates."

"Well, I for one am glad you didn't. A world without Captain Jack Harkness scarcely bears thinking about."

Jack answered the only way possible. He gripped the Doctor in an intensely passionate embrace. Their mouths crashed together as they each sought the other's mind. Joined, their desires were eerily similar. Breaking apart, they shared identical roguish grins.

"It's going to cause quite a stir if we're caught, Captain."

His reply was somewhere between flirtatious and goading. "Then, you'll have to make sure we don't get caught. Unless, you don't think you're up to it?"

Equally provocative, the Doctor answered, "There's no question I'm up for it. The question is, Jack, do you have the stamina to do it?"

He trailed his finger down the Doctor's chest, scratching against the fabric of his shirt. "Now, you're just being insulting. And we're wasting time. If we're going to do this, let's do it."

"Forceful, I like it. And, you're absolutely right. We don't want to waste too much time." Heartily clapping his hand against Jack's back, the Doctor led him into the TARDIS.

A minute later, the ship dematerialized, leaving the hotel suite empty of life.

* * *

><p>When the TARDIS materialized in their bedroom suite in Cardiff, Melissa sleept too soundly to stir. She'd tossed and turned most of the night, never finding a comfortable position. When she had dozed, pressure on her bladder had invariably woken her only an hour or so later, leaving her cross and dispirited. The last time she'd woken, she'd ended up crying herself to sleep, and the evidence of that was still plainly written on her face.<p>

"Is she alright?"

Anxiously, Jack watched the Doctor put his fingers against her face, and then move his hands downwards to rest on her stomach. After a long minute, he pulled his hands away, gently kissing her on the cheek before standing.

"She'll be fine, but we should let her sleep. No matter what faith Drocina puts in those scans, I think our daughter is going to prove her wrong. I've never felt such determination in a mind so young. I'll be surprised if she waits another week, let alone seventeen days. Little wonder Emma feels strange."

"Should we withdraw from the summit?"

He gave serious consideration to the question. "Let's wait and speak to Emma before we take such a step. The next meeting isn't for nine hours. There's no reason to rush the decision."

Rummaging around in the dresser, he threw a pair of pajama bottoms to Jack. "You might as well get some sleep while you can. I'll go see who's downstairs."

He didn't argue. The meetings had been long and tedious, and he was tired. Besides, there wasn't any place he'd rather be than next to his wife at the moment. "Thanks, Doc."

* * *

><p>"Where's Drocina?"<p>

Ianto Jones stood up, showing no surprise that the Doctor had walked down the stairs when he should have been in Washington, D.C. "At the Hub. She's trying to save an alien who came through the Rift. He'd been mauled by something nasty."

"Jack and I will be here for a while. You're welcome to get some rest at your flat, Ianto."

The archivist stood. "Actually, I need to go into work. Martha and Mickey were here last night, so we're short this morning. Is there anything I can get you before I leave?"

"Nah, we had dinner a few hours ago. Jack and I will have to leave around one, but until then, we can handle it.

"I'll return around noon, then."

Not one to make idle chitchat, Ianto quietly let himself out the door. Grateful to be alone with his bond mates, the Doctor returned to the bedroom and made himself comfortable in the chair. He wanted to be one of the first things his wife saw when she woke up.

She slept for another four hours, her back pressed snugly against Jack and her hands tucked up under her right cheek. When she began to stir, the Doctor knelt beside her, smoothing her wavy hair, which had turned almost completely gray in the past few weeks.

As soon as she opened her eyes and saw him, she eagerly asked, "Is it over?"

"Not yet. We thought we'd spend our break with you."

He helped her up, hiding his distress as she leaned heavily against him for support. The strain on her hearts continued to take its toll. He waited until she had settled back in bed before asking her any questions of his own.

"Any new cravings?"

"No. I think she's tired of that game." Letting him prop her up with a number of pillows, she watched Jack sleep. "Is he okay?"

"It's the middle of the night in Washington. He's just tired, Em. But, he wanted to sleep next to you."

When she smiled brightly in response, her reaction made the trip worthwhile. "I missed you."

Thinking of her tear stained face, he swallowed a lump in his throat. "I know. I'm sorry."

She frowned at his dismal expression. Patting his knee, she did her best to reassure him. "Don't, Doc. I meant it as a compliment."

Her effort to cheer him up only made his throat tighter, but he was determined to remain positive for her sake. "We missed you, too, Emma. The meetings are tedious. I think Jack and I are going to try to convince the Brig to skip the working groups scheduled this afternoon. It might do Alistair some good to do a little sightseeing."

Briefly, she closed her eyes as fresh grief unexpectedly welled to the surface. Her children had been doing nothing more dangerous than sightseeing, and it had gotten them killed. "I should have gone with them. Matthew didn't want me chaperoning, though. He said it would embarrass him, and for once Susan agreed."

Why had said anything about sightseeing? And, why had he agreed to go to Washington, D.C.? The summit was a political minefield, and the location was guaranteed to bring back bad memories. Jack still had occasional nightmares about the twins' deaths.

"It wasn't your fault, Em. No one could have predicted the Daleks' attack."

"They were only supposed to be doing a little sightseeing."

"I know. I'm so sorry." Gently, he wiped away her stray tears. The shrill blare of the clock alarm interrupted anything else he might have said.

Jack sat up groggily, flashing Melissa a dazzling smile as soon as he remembered where he was. "Good morning, Sleeping Beauty." As he kissed her, he couldn't help but notice she'd been crying yet again. He looked to the Doctor in question, but the Time Lord subtly shook his head.

Wiping her eyes, she pretended she was fine. "You're the one who was sleeping, Jack."

As the Doctor prepared her morning bag of glucose, Jack did his best to distract her. "Hey, Sweetheart, cut me some slack. I need a couple of hours or else I'll fall asleep in the meetings. Still might, they're boring as hell."

For a while, she didn't say much of anything. Then, the glucose levels rose high enough that she grinned conspiratorially. "I've got a secret."

"Oh? What's that, Emma?" They'd promised not to take advantage when she was quite so dopey, but it was impossible to resist such a provocative statement.

"Shh," she whispered loudly, putting her finger to her lips. "If I told you, it wouldn't be a secret."

Jack shared an amused look with the Doctor. This was going to be easy. "You can trust us, Sweetheart. We won't tell."

By the look on her face, it was clear she didn't believe him. "You promise? You won't tell anyone, even Drocina?"

Suddenly, it wasn't so funny, but neither one of them wanted to risk her clamming up now. "Even Drocina," Jack promised.

She looked incredibly smug, and gestured for them both to put their hands on her abdomen. After a minute, they felt her entire stomach harden and then relax. "See? I told you she'd gotten tired of giving me cravings, Doc. She's very clever, you know."

"Yes, she is," he affirmed proudly. "I'm sure she'll work out the rest of it soon. Are you sure you don't want to let Drocina know?"

"Why? All she does is look at that scanner of hers."

"You're not in labor now, though, right?" Jack wished he hadn't made such a stupid promise. No matter how much Drocina might irritate her, the young Time Lord was a gifted healer.

Melissa rolled her eyes. "She's learning, Jack. When she gets it right, believe me, I'll know."

"We all will," the Doctor affirmed. "Because you aren't going to wait to call us. Jack and I have no intention of missing our children's births."

She gave him a half-hearted salute before yawning. "I'm tired of being tired."

"You'll feel better soon. Rest until breakfast. Pancakes okay?"

"Doesn't matter. Whatever's easiest."

Her eyes had closed by the time they walked out of the room.

* * *

><p>"So, why aren't we staying?"<p>

Flipping flapjacks, Jack waited for the Doctor's answer. After learning that Melissa was experiencing contractions, no matter how ineffectual, he was ready to skip the conference.

"There's no way to foresee the onset of actual labor. Our daughter's much closer to triggering it, but it's more likely days rather than hours. Tomorrow, we'll do the same as today, and come here instead of staying at the hotel for the night. The State Dinner isn't until the day after tomorrow; no one will miss us.

"I could pretend to be sick and you could go back alone."

"No."

"Why not?" Jack thought it was an excellent idea.

"One, to all but a few, you are still the man who can't stay dead. Feigning illness might call that into question. Two, it's important that Torchwood be represented. As much as I hate to admit it, the organization defended the planet against aliens long before UNIT was an idea. Three, I realize you don't like to acknowledge it, Captain, but the summit might fall apart if you withdraw. You're the one the delegates pull aside for a few minutes of private conversation again and again. Don't think it's all attributable to your good looks and fifty-first century pheromones."

He didn't see it that way. "People talk to me when you and Alistair are too busy to give them the time of day, Doc. Not that I mind. Most of these idiots wouldn't recognize an alien if it landed three feet in front of them. I'm only too happy to set them straight on a few things."

Frying a pan of sausages, the Doctor realized that his bond mate once again underestimated his own worth. "Jack, you're the hero of the Valiant, and every one of those delegates has been briefed on the events of that year. Rest assured, they're speaking to you because they wish to speak to you."

He was not going to get sucked into a discussion about the Valiant. "I don't care, Doc. As far as I'm concerned, they're just a bunch of worthless politicians who are taking me away from what's really important."

The Time Lord couldn't argue with his logic. "I'm afraid you're right, Captain. But, if we can make it through the summit, we shouldn't be bothered again." Pragmatic, he added with an embarrassed smile, "Well, at least for another few months."

All of Jack's insecurities came out when he asked his next question. "She will be alright, won't she?"

The Doctor put his arms around him, refusing to even acknowledge the possibility that something might go wrong. "Of course she will. This is Emma we're talking about here. She's not going to let something like a little heart damage interfere with her being a mum. She'll deliver and when's she's sufficiently recovered, she'll regenerate."

"And, the babies?"

He was too terrified to ask about the regeneration. Although he'd seen the evidence of the Doctor's regenerations, he'd only seen the aftereffects once. After the Weevil attack, the Time Lord Bruno had been disoriented and confused.

"They're both resoundingly healthy. Owen's going to spend a little extra time maturing in the artificial womb, but it won't be long before he catches up. And, our daughter is going to be the cleverest, most beautiful Time Lord ever to have been born." With a gleam in his eye, he amended, "Apart from her mother, of course."

"You know, I'd rather stay here."

"Believe me, Captain, that makes two of us."

* * *

><p>"What are you're doing?"<p>

Jack watched the Doctor hastily scrawl a lengthy letter in Gallifreyan. Finished, he took a magnet from the pile of takeaway adverts hiding in a drawer in the kitchen, and attached the letter to the front of the refrigerator.

"Well, you promised Emma not to tell Drocina anything about her contractions, but I made no such promise. Besides, writing isn't quite the same as telling, is it?"

"Oh, good, I thought I was going to have to phone her later. Shall we tell Ianto?"

"I see no reason to. Emma's sleeping and Drocina should return later this afternoon. Besides, the more people who know, the more fuss that will be made. There's enough of that already."

"I see you're point, Doc. I guess we better get going. If the Brig knocks on our door for breakfast and there's no answer, he's liable to have the place overrun by the Secret Service."

Thanking Ianto for looking after Melissa, Jack and the Doctor quietly crept upstairs. They kissed their wife goodbye without waking her, and reluctantly entered the TARDIS. The ship, perhaps sensing the need for stealth, dematerialized without its telltale sound, and the pregnant Time Lord slumbered peacefully as her daughter did her best to break free from her frustrating confinement.

Hours later, Drocina walked into the kitchen and discovered the note. Excited, she immediately went to the computer to compose a report. As she hit 'send', she couldn't help but think that Lord Braxiatel would be very pleased.

* * *

><p>Sitting in the back of the limousine, the Doctor surreptitiously glanced at the Brigadier. He looked contented after a long day of intense negotiations. But then, he had every reason to be. The vast majority of the delegates had resolved to invest UNIT with ultimate authority for all things alien.<p>

Not only would the organization continue to take the lead in defending the Earth against the threat of annihilation, but it would also be at the forefront of any future diplomatic relations with extraterrestrials. It was a dramatic step forward in the march towards a central world authority, and would ensure that no one country could take advantage of first contact with any species. The Time Lord privately admitted to being impressed with the amount of progress made in such a short amount of time, even if it had meant that they'd been unable to skip any of the afternoon sessions.

Jack was stealing a nap as they sat in rush hour traffic. Although he probably wouldn't acknowledge it, the Captain had been instrumental in convincing the major powers that ceding authority to the UN in all matters extraterrestrial would be of benefit. He'd only had to make a few pointed comments about Harold Saxon before everyone saw the benefit of upholding UNIT's authority and augmenting it.

Originally, they'd planned on going out to dinner with Alistair before sneaking off to Cardiff. As soon as the old soldier had confessed to being fatigued, however, they had quickly suggested that he order room service and retire early. He'd looked relieved, and had mentioned that he might call Doris before going to bed. The Doctor and Jack had been more than happy to accommodate him; they were pleased to have the chance of a few extra hours with their wife.

The night air was cold and held the promise of rain as the limousine pulled up to their hotel. The Doctor shook Jack awake, and then did the same to the Brigadier, albeit more gently. The front portico was brightly lit against the early darkness, and several well dressed groups milled about as they waited for taxis to take them to dinner or the theater.

Walking towards the entrance of the hotel with his two companions, the Time Lord noticed nothing amiss until the first shot tore through the Captain's torso.

"JACK!"

His scream echoed as he vainly attempted to halt Jack's downward motion, but his bond mate's coat slipped through his fingers even as bullets continued to fly. The Captain landed heavily on the wide outdoor runner, his blood staining it a darker shade of red. He didn't move.

As the Doctor leaned over to assess his injuries, he was pushed from behind.

"Look out, you bloody fool!"

Sir Alistair landed heavily on top of him, a large dart sticking out of his back. The Time Lord couldn't spare his friend a glance; he made a mad dash towards the lobby, desperate to find some help.

He didn't make it. He felt a terrible burst of pain, and went down in a jumbled heap.

* * *

><p>As Jack, the Brigadier and the Doctor were making significant progress during the afternoon session of the Planetary Defense Summit, Melissa woke from her nap feeling decidedly strange. She was . . . achy . . . and . . . unsettled. Calming her mind as best she could, she focused inward.<p>

Little by little, she perceived the changes taking place within. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. She was not in labor—yet. But a concept that she'd struggled to understand since her brain injury suddenly became clear. Not yet, but soon. Very soon.

Lying on her side, she stroked her stomach, whispering words of encouragement to her daughter.

The doorbell rang close to eleven, and Drocina wondered who would visit at such a late hour. Opening the door a crack, she was surprised to see Brax, and then stunned to see who stood behind him. Hastily, she threw open the door, inviting them both inside.

"High Lord President. It's an honor to meet you, My Lady. I did not realize you would be visiting, or I would have prepared some refreshment. Would you care for something to drink?"

"Only if you will join me." Lady Romana, current High Lord President of all Gallifrey responded politely, smiling as she took in the quaint house in which the Doctor and his bond mates currently resided.

"Brax, why don't you fix us something to drink? I'm sure you're familiar enough with your brother's house to act as host for our little visit."

As Drocina stared unabashedly at Romana, Irving Braxiatel hurried into the kitchen. Yanking open cabinets, he searched for anything that might prolong the inevitable. Hastily, he found the wineglasses and poured them each a glass of burgundy. It was dark enough to look like blood, but he squelched that thought immediately.

Another frenzied search resulted in a decent plate of cheeses and a tin of biscuits. Arranging them on a decorative tray, he practically ran back into the den, setting the snack on the coffee table. Romana watched him with an amused smirk on her face.

"Really, Brax, your hunger knows no bounds."

Her eyes drilling into his the entire time, she picked up a piece of cheese and popped it into her mouth. As she tasted the sharp Edam, she grinned slyly at him. "No additives. It seems I might have underestimated your tastes. Could your palate be as sophisticated as mine?"

Drocina watched with growing befuddlement. She was definitely missing something. "The cheese is organic, Lady Romana. It is essential that we shield the Emissary from as many risks as possible."

"Ah, yes, the Emissary. I came all this way to see her. Where is she?"

The president's voice held just a hint of annoyance, and the young healer was quick to explain. "I'm sorry, High Lord President, but the Emissary is sleeping. I can wake her, if you wish."

Romana waved away the healer's offer. "That's not necessary, Drocina. I have a feeling she'll be waking up shortly."

Brax stiffened at that, but didn't call attention to himself by speaking out loud. Instead, he watched Romana charm the overawed healer.

"I'll wait. Why don't you tell me about yourself? You are Kora's daughter, yes?"

"Yes," Drocina promptly responded, flattered that Gallifrey's president would take such an avid interest in her life. Excitedly, she related all the stories she'd heard about her parents, and how her mother's sacrifice had inspired her to become a better healer.

All the while, Brax ticked off the minutes in his head, hoping that his plan of desperation would be given the time to work.

* * *

><p>"You must wake up, My Lady. Lady Emissary, wake up. Time is against us."<p>

Blearily, Melissa opened her eyes, and then she blinked, not sure she was seeing things correctly. "Elder?"

The unusually grave Arcadian gripped her hand. "We must leave, My Lady. Your life is in great danger, and even I cannot foresee the outcome."

Still halfway asleep, she asked the first question that came to her mind. "Why are you wearing jeans?"

The seer with the appearance of a child ignored her query, insistently tugging her hand. "My Lady, we must flee. Lord Braxiatel has sent me to take you to safety."

Sitting up, Melissa winced as she experienced an insistent twinge of pain. At that moment, it wasn't very intense, but it unmistakably a labor pang. Ruefully, she rubbed her massive stomach. "I don't think I'm in any condition to be dragged anywhere right now, Elder."

The Arcadian rested her hands on Melissa's abdomen. Her entire being suddenly radiated anguish. "My Lady, I am so very sorry. But, you must flee. If you do not make the attempt, the consequence is foregone."

Remembering the last time the seer had apologized to her, Melissa quickly stood up, gripping the headboard as her hearts thudded in her chest. Regaining her equilibrium, she shuffled to the closet, intending to find her shoes.

"There's no time, My Lady. We must leave now."

"Barefoot?"

"Every second we stay puts you that much closer to danger."

Melissa was about to argue, but she noticed that the seer had already opened the window. Waddling towards her, she opened her mouth to protest, but the Arcadian put her finger to her lips in a plea for silence. Poking her head out the windowsill, Melissa spied the fire ladder leaning against her house.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me."

"My Lady, please."

The Arcadian whined like an impatient child, and Melissa reluctantly allowed herself to be maneuvered out the window. It was awkward, and she almost fell on three separate occasions, but she did eventually climb down the ladder. The grass was wet from a recent rain, and her toes curled underneath her as she touched the ground, digging into the spongy earth.

Watching the young seer agilely follow, she wondered why the outdoor lights hadn't already illuminated the back garden, but it stayed dark and silent. She didn't have much time to contemplate the compromised security system, As soon as the Arcadian reached the ground, the girl gripped her hand and pulled her forcefully along.

Quietly opening and closing the back gate, Melissa allowed herself to be led down the dark street. She was dressed only in a navy blue cotton nightgown, but the cool night air didn't bother her like it might a human. Another contraction some twenty minutes after the first one, however, made her stop short. It was only then that she realized that she had left her mobile behind.

"I left my phone on the nightstand."

"Good. No one can track you."

With that, the girl clasped Melissa's left hand and pulled her hurriedly along. As she kept up as best she could, the pregnant Time Lord couldn't help but think that there was something wrong with the seer wearing jeans, an electric blue t-shirt bedecked with peace signs and pink sparkly trainers. Even her hair was wrong. It was in two long pig tales.

But, everything about the situation was wrong. She'd climbed down a ladder in her bare feet to escape a threat she knew nothing about. Jack and the Doctor had no idea that she was in labor, and weren't even on the same continent. Worst of all, she was becoming increasingly winded, and wasn't sure how much farther she could walk.

She plodded along with a fierce determination until a violent jolt of pain and fear exploded through the bond she shared with her mates. As her knees turned to jelly, she clutched a signpost for support. "Please, no."

"My Lady?"

Her agonized expression needed no interpretation, and the young Arcadian placed her arms around her in sympathy. "There is still hope for them, Melissa, but all will be for naught if we fail to escape."

Wiping away her tears, she braced herself against the metal pole as the next contraction gripped her. The child was correct; she couldn't help the Doctor and Jack, but she could try to save herself and her children. When the pain had retreated once again, she held her hand out for the seer to take. "You called me Melissa."

Pulling her charge down the empty street, the seer smiled briefly. "It is your name."

Echoing their conversation in the alternate timeline, she countered, "For but a handful of years."

The seer carefully considered her reply as she walked briskly towards their destination. "There is power in a name, and I understand your desire to change yours. Be warned, however, that the Bad Wolf will not let go of her servant so easily."

Melissa lapsed into silence, having no desire to speak of the Bad Wolf. As they turned yet another corner, the Arcadian ran to a white Ford Fiesta parked on the curb and climbed into the driver's seat. Bemused, the Time Lord opened the passenger door.

"Get in."

After a second she did. It was obvious from the modifications made to the gleaming white car that the Arcadian had driven regularly during her stint on Earth. When Melissa closed the door, the seer sped off with a squeal of tires. The Time Lord could only hope that they were heading someplace safe. As another contraction made her grip the dashboard, she knew with absolute certainty that she couldn't run again.

* * *

><p>As Drocina wittered on about her life, Brax strained to hear any sound that might indicate his bond sister had escaped from the deathtrap the unwitting healer had placed her in. The girl hadn't heard from him in six weeks; why the hell had she felt compelled to send a report about Emma's pregnancy after all that time? If he could have delayed Romana until after the children were born, then he might have stood a chance of warning his brother before something catastrophic took place.<p>

By the way Romana kept glancing theatrically at that archaic watch of hers, however, he knew it was far too late to warn his brother and the Time Agent. He could only hope that they would be wary—and lucky. He had no such illusions about the poor child sitting across from him. Her life was forfeit, and she had no idea of the danger she faced.

His own life was forfeit; he knew that quite well. But, it was his own damn fault. He'd been blind to Romana's obsession when she'd first seduced him on the sofa in her office. He'd thought it nothing more than a bit of recreation, really. And then she'd blindsided him with her faked vulnerability, and he'd deluded himself to think it might be so much more. It never was. People had been trying to use him to get to his brother for a millennium; the only difference this time was that she'd succeeded.

He'd trusted her enough to consider her an ally against isolationists like Amathow, and had often chatted with her about the Doctor's newfound happiness. Never once had he considered that his brother's former lover might be jealous of his renewed relations with his bond mate.

Jealousy wasn't acknowledged on Gallifrey. No doubt it was present, but it was considered a primitive throwback to a much earlier time. Time Lords weren't emotionless—far from it. But, to lose control of one's emotions was considered the embodiment of crassness.

With a final glance at her watch, Romana smiled at the healer. "I'm certain that the Emissary must be awake by now. Let's all go upstairs, shall we?"

She'd interrupted Drocina mid story and the young woman suddenly looked uneasy. "Perhaps I should go alone. Sometimes, she isn't well enough to receive visitors."

This time, the redhead's smile was frosty. "Child, I'm the High Lord President of Gallifrey. She'll see me."

The poor girl blanched. "Of course."

Together, they walked up the stairs. Romana wasn't stupid enough to let Brax walk behind her, so he found himself within arm's reach of Drocina. It was all he needed. Pretending to stumble, he grabbed her arm to balance himself.

His powerful mental assault tore through her defenses as easily as if they had been made of spiders' webs. Standing in a decrepit cabin in the middle of a murky swamp, Brax helped the shocked girl to her feet.

"This is where the students went to hide from Borusa. I didn't realize you'd taken such comfort in it. It's a lovely mental image."

"What are you going to do to me?"

As if he had all the time in the world, Brax sat cross-legged on the dirt floor of the cabin. "I'm not going to do anything to you, Drocina. I thought you'd like to know that Romana is going to kill you."

"What?"

The mental landscape began to flicker, and the older Time Lord quickly stabilized it using some of his own memories of the place.

"Don't feel singled out. She's going to kill me, too. And, if I'm very unlucky, she'll kill Emma, but I've done my best to prevent it."

Shaking, the young healer sank to the floor beside him. "I don't understand."

"I didn't either until it was too late. It seems years of war have taken their toll on our lovely president. She's quite insane. She blames Emma for the Doctor's rejection of her. And, while there certainly a grain of truth in that, she's taking her retribution to the extreme."

"**She** gave Earth First the digilitum?"

"Yes," he acknowledged bitterly. "She gave them a dose of the digilitum and paid them very well to use it. Luckily, my brother discovered those files in the nick of time."

As he explained, she came to her own terrible realization. "You broke off contact with him when you suspected she might be involved. If I hadn't contacted you, she might not have acted tonight."

"It's not your fault," he assured her, and was surprised to find that he meant it. "Something else would have set her off eventually." Growing mournful, he took her hand. "I am sorry, young one. You don't deserve this fate."

Unexpectedly, she smiled at him, her eyes blazing with conviction. "Lord Braxiatel, if there's anything that I have learned in my short life, it is that fate is rarely kind. If I can delay Romanadvoratrelundar in any way, I will. The Emissary is worth dying for."

"Yes, I rather think she is," he agreed solemnly before leaping out of her mind as quickly as he had entered.

Their conversation had taken place at the speed of thought, and Romana was none the wiser. If she wondered about the young healer's sudden grimace, she dismissed it as nothing more than a response to Lord Braxiatel's stumble. Gleeful, the president swept into the upstairs bedroom, anticipating the satisfaction of seeing her hated enemy despondent over the deaths of her bond mates.

It took her a moment to process the empty room and open window, but when she did, she struck Brax so hard on the cheek that she sent him sprawling.

"You bastard! How the hell—?" She stopped mid thought, her expression turning truly wicked as she realized his game. "You haven't tried to escape once tonight. I thought you'd at least try to poison my food or drink, but you were just like me, biding your time."

He saw no need to remain respectfully silent. He'd lost his respect for the wild-eyed woman in front of him weeks ago. "Go fuck yourself, Romana. I'm nothing like you. Emma got away. You've lost. Why don't you crawl back to E-space and leave the rest of us alone?"

She whipped the antique revolver out of her pocket before he had a chance to move. "E-space isn't an option. Besides, you've simply prolonged the game. I sent Flavia on a fool's errand, and you haven't been able to contact anyone on Earth for quite a while. I know exactly whom you sent here tonight. And, there are only a few places she would go."

Pulling out a flat device that looked somewhat similar to an iPad, Romana input a command.

At the look of near panic on Brax's face, Drocina swallowed thickly, fighting back her fear. "What did you do?"

"I blew up the Hub," she replied indifferently. "If it's going to be a game of chase, I want to keep it simple."

The healer blanched as she wondered who had been inside at the time of the explosion. "You killed them."

"Humans are born dying, Drocina. In a hundred years, no one will remember their names. But, if death interests you, I killed the Doctor and his pet as well. And, in a few moments, I'm going to kill you."

Brax sneered. "With a gun? I hardly think that's going to work."

Negligently, she discharged the weapon, hitting him in the right shoulder. As he leaned heavily agaisnt the wall, his mouth clamped tightly shut to keep his screams of agony silent, she yanked him by his shirt collar.

"A gun could easily kill you if I shot you between regenerations, but I want you to suffer."

Drocina had heard enough. As soon as Romana released Brax, she rushed forward, taking the unhinged Time Lord completely by surprise by tackling her to the ground. The gun skittered across the floor, coming to rest underneath the dresser. Recovering quickly, Romana shrieked in rage, jumping up and pinning the smaller girl to the floor.

Sitting on top of Drocina, Romana's blue eyes held no hint of sanity, and her cheeks were as enflamed as her auburn hair. "You little fool! I would have spared your life, for the sake of Kora's memory if nothing else. Such a waste!"

As she spoke, she pulled a vial of colorless liquid from her pocket. Guessing what would happen next, Drocina fought with all her might, but it was no use. Romana grabbed her face, prying her jaws open bit by agonizing bit. Then, she tipped the liquid into the healer's mouth.

The poison hit her throat, and the young woman desperately tried not to swallow. But the disturbed Time Lord had been sitting on her chest for several minutes, and she had no oxygen left in her respiratory bypass. When Romana clamped her hands over her nose and mouth, instinct quickly took over, and Drocina swallowed convulsively, desperately trying to suck in air. It was over in seconds. The fast acting poison raced through her bloodstream to her heart, stopping it forever.

Brax had managed to stand, but he'd been too weak to do anything more than helplessly witness the brave young woman's death. At least in her struggles, she had bought Emma more time. Leaning against the wall, he watched Romana close Drocina's eyes, his former lover's expression bordering on regret.

Words were his only weapon left, and he used them to the best of his advantage. "You just killed a part of Gallifrey's future, Romana. Drocina was a remarkable young woman. Stop before you do any more damage. The child Emma carries will bring hope to us all."

Stepping over the dead healer's body, Romana stopped just out of the Brax's reach. There was nothing regretful in her countenance now. "The children the Emissary carries are abominations, both of them. I am saving Gallifrey's future, not damaging it. If the Doctor hadn't been so besotted by that old cow, he would have done the same. Instead, he ran to her like some rutting bull."

Becoming increasingly agitated, she ranted. "He was meant for me! He was always meant for me! It was so much more than the sex! He cared for me! Do you know how many bonding offers I turned down because of him? I entrusted him with the Moment because I believed he was strong, but when it mattered, he was pitifully weak. He treated me like I was the dirt beneath his feet. He told me it was over, that he had reconciled with her, like I was merely something to be discarded without a thought. He used me! And I if there's one thing I won't tolerate, it's being used."

With apparent calmness, Irving Braxiatel made one last attempt at reasoning with her. "My brother cares for many people, Romana. I'm sure he loved you. But he's bonded to Emma. Neither one of us has laid ourselves bare to another in such an intimate fashion. I don't think we can begin to understand the depth of that type of connection. They are meant to be together. When she forgave him, of course he went back to her. But that doesn't mean he used you."

She must have found his speech quite humorous because she threw back her head and laughed. It was a frightening sound, and it didn't abate for almost half a minute.

"He's dead, Brax. Stop trying to protect him. And shut up. Or at least do some groveling. Drocina's death was easy compared to what I have planned for you."

His jeans' pockets were definitely bigger on the inside. But when he pulled out a long black knife, she only chuckled before pulling out a similar one of her own. "I keep my ceremonial dagger sharp, too. The Doctor taught me that, although I suppose I have you to thank."

He nodded distractedly, concentrating on the upcoming fight. Using his left hand put him at a disadvantage, but he'd had centuries more practice than her at hand to hand combat. Of course, if she remembered the location of the gun, it would most likely be over before it started.

Even without the firearm, it was over woefully quickly. As soon as he'd begun to move, his vision had gone blurry. The wound to his shoulder was more severe than he had thought. After nicking his throat, she had him disarmed in less than five minutes.

Lying half conscious on his brother's bed, he dimly watched Romana prepare a syringe of colorless liquid. He really was too weak to put up much of a struggle, and he was secretly glad that he didn't have to suffer through the indignation of having his lips pried apart. As she stood over him, gloating, he was simply thankful that it was about to be over.

When she injected the solution into his neck, however, he felt like his veins were on fire. This wasn't the quick release of digilitum. It was the agony of aspirin, and something else that was pulling him relentlessly to oblivion.

As his vision swam, he could vaguely understand her smug explanation. "I told you I wanted you to suffer. There's enough sodium pentothal to ensure you don't regenerate, but not enough to keep you unconscious until the end. Enjoy your nap. You won't like it when you wake."

She didn't bother waiting for his death. It would take many hours, just as she had intended. Instead, she calmly walked out the front door and entered her TARDIS. Torchwood was gone. There was only one other location where the Arcadian could hide her prey. She poured her last vial of digilitum into a tranquilizer dart. She'd always enjoyed a good game of chase. Her only regret was that it had been necessary to kill the Doctor before she completed her final act of vengeance.


	25. Bleak

Author's Notes - The drama continues in this chapter. The Doctor snaps under pressure and Melissa delivers under difficult circumstances. And, considering where I leave the fate of a few of the characters, I'll try to update again before Friday, but I can't make any promises.

Thanks to **Way Worse Than Scottish** and **dwatlaskrhtcm** for their reviews. It's nice to know what people think of this story.

* * *

><p>Melissa and the Arcadian Elder didn't witness the Hub's destruction. But, they had been close enough to feel the ground shake beneath them. The seer shared her look of horror as she abruptly changed direction and sped away. She knew of one other stronghold that might keep the Emissary safe.<p>

Opening her eyes as the car finally stopped, Melissa peered into the inky darkness. "This is St. Cadoc's."

"Yes, but it is deserted now. We can hide here until it is safe."

As another contraction gripped her, the exhausted woman wondered if it wouldn't be better to stay in the car. "It can't be very sanitary," she joked weakly.

"It is abandoned, and there is no reason for anyone to come here. My kinsmen killed the few who dared."

Still reeling from the attack on her bond mates and the destruction of Torchwood, Melissa nodded listlessly. Passively, she let the girl pull her inside the deconsecrated church. She was exhausted, and simply hoped for someplace comfortable to lie down.

There was nothing but cold, hard stone. The sad church had long ago been stripped bare. The seer helped her to the floor near the remains of the altar. Breaking out in a cold sweat, she rested between contractions.

Her reprieve lasted only an hour. When she heard the sound of a TARDIS materializing in the sanctuary, she was momentarily filled with hope. But she saw not a comforting blue police box, but a sterile, cylindrical Battle TARDIS. Forcing herself to stand, she hid in an alcove.

When she saw the ship's pilot, she almost ran out of her hiding place, but the Arcadian stopped her. "You must stay hidden," she quietly warned.

"But it's Romana," she whispered just as quietly.

"Precisely."

When the president began to call for her to come out in a singsong voice, she finally understood. No wonder they'd been so confused. This had never been about politics. It had always been extremely personal.

"Come out, come out wherever you are! This is supposed to be a game of chase, not hide and seek! Arcadians are too predictable to play hide and seek."

"If you can make it to her ship, can you pilot it?"

"Yes, a Battle TARDIS is programmed to obey any Time Lord."

"Then, when I say run, run for the ship."

She almost argued that she couldn't run, but she knew this was her one chance. As Romana searched each pew, the seer waited until her back was turned away from them, and then hissed, "Run!"

It might have worked had the next contraction not been so much more painful. Bending over, the pregnant Time Lord gasped as she fought to stay on her feet. With incredibly fast reflexes, Romana turned towards her and fired.

The Arcadian was faster. She put herself in front of the dart's path. It hit her in the chest and she crumpled to the floor.

Seeing her protector fall, Melissa hobbled towards the time ship as quickly as she could. It wasn't quite fast enough. Romana grabbed her by the neck before she could close the door. The two women struggled, a mother's desperation giving Melissa a temporary advantage.

Wrenching herself free, she put the console between herself and her opponent. Irate, Romana pulled out her pistol and fired, but the shots hit the time rotor instead of her intended target. All of a sudden, the ship lurched as it activated an emergency protocol formulated during the Time War.

Hanging on as the TARDIS spun out of control, Melissa watched Romana warily. For the moment, there was too much turbulence for her to fire her weapon, but she knew the instant the ship landed, the Doctor's former lover would do her best to kill her. Her only hope was to get through the doors and find some help.

That was a dangerous prospect considering that the Battle TARDIS had jumped to a random destination. But, it was better odds that hiding in the ship. Before Romana could stand, Melissa launched herself at the door, drawing enough energy from her frail body in order to give herself a fair burst of speed. By some miracle, she made it outside without getting shot.

Even more remarkable, the atmosphere wasn't toxic. Although, they'd definitely landed on the seedy side of whatever planet they were one. No matter how futuristic the small buildings that stretched out in front of her appeared, the amount of refuse stacked up against them all but screamed intentional neglect. Picking a direction at random, she began to weave in and around the dark streets, the better to dodge the bullets that Romana kept firing in her general direction.

The few people who witnessed her flight did so circumspectly, without any offers of assistance. Their indifference told her more than she wished to know. At least she blended in well enough. Almost everyone she'd seen was humanoid, although she'd seen a few more exotic races as well.

Stopping a moment to catch her breath, she listened for the sound of pursuit, but the alley in which she hid was deathly quiet. Before she could move onwards, her face screwed up in pain against another contraction, and she knew she wouldn't be able to walk much farther. Her hearts were pounding in her chest and she was short of breath. Worse, without the Doctor and Jack to provide emotional support, she was slipping into despair. Urgently, she sought shelter in one of the abandoned hovels before she decided it wasn't worth the effort to hide.

The structure she'd chosen was as long as a cargo container on Earth and twice as wide. It was divided in two by an opaque plastic barrier that came halfway up the wall, and in the back there were several mattresses that looked like they had seen too much use. Other than that, it was distressingly empty.

She didn't touch the mattresses; they were no doubt filthy. Arduously maneuvering herself to the ground, she crouched behind the interior wall until the pain of labor forced her to lie down on the trash strewn floor. As soon as she did, her water broke. Faced with the prospect of delivering her children alone in a disused shack, she broke down and gave into despair.

* * *

><p>Romana had been stupefied when the Emissary had managed to run out the TARDIS. After their fight and the bumpy ride, she wouldn't have expected the fat cow to have the ability to run anywhere. Cursing herself for underestimating her prey, the enraged Time Lord paused long enough to retrieve a particle disrupter from the well stocked armory before stalking outside.<p>

Anyone unwary enough not to flee from her met the business end of her disrupter. She asked the same question each time. "Have you seen a pregnant woman running around?"

Most times, she was disappointed with the answers, but randomly killing a few passersby convinced the ragged onlookers of her determination. After an hour or so, she began to get positive results. She knew she'd found her prize when she walked into one of the decrepit building and heard quiet sobbing.

Carefully avoiding anything underfoot that might give her position away, Romana crept to the four foot wall that divided the small space. Peeking over, she smirked in triumph. This was going to be fun. "I'll give you to the count of ten. Run, run as fast as you can. One, two . . . . "

Melissa had no strength left to stand. Awkwardly, she scrambled to get away, but her left heart chose that moment to give out. She felt a sharp pain in her chest, and her vision temporarily blackened.

Romana had counted to five when Melissa collapsed in front of her. Thinking it some trick, she approached warily and tentatively kicked the pregnant Time Lord in the stomach. She groaned weakly but didn't move.

Feeling somewhat cheated of her victory, the unhinged Time Lord stood over the Emissary and considered how to best kill her. When the Time Agent flashed into existence behind her, she spun around, her mouth dropping open in shock.

"YOU!"

Quickly taking in the situation, the agent didn't hesitate. He drew his sonic blaster and efficiently caused the woman to disappear—permanently. Stepping around the wall, he went to check on her intended victim.

"Shit."

She was not the person he had hoped her to be.

He put his crushing disappointment temporarily aside to scan the grossly pregnant woman with his wrist strap. Four heartbeats—hell, the poor woman was carrying triplets. Having faked a single pregnancy for one of his undercover ops, he could well imagine how difficult that must be. The hormone injections alone had made him miserable.

He watched as she feebly wrapped her hands around her stomach as an intense contraction brought her partially to awareness. She wasn't just pregnant; she was in labor. He wondered how the day could get any worse. Crouching beside her, he idly stroked her cheek. Aside from the condition of her bare feet, she was too well cared for to belong on this planet, let alone this area of the city. However she had gotten to Bleak, it had not been voluntarily.

"Oh, sweetheart, someone's done a number on you."

* * *

><p>Melissa had to fight for awareness, and when she managed it, she knew she wasn't quite coherent. She'd been moved, and was now lying on a mattress rather than on the dirty floor. The mattress had been encased in some sort of spray that had hardened into a spongy barrier between her body and the filth that was no doubt still present on the bedding. Her clothes had been removed, and she was covered in an extremely thin but surprisingly warm blanket.<p>

Dimly, she was aware that her contractions were growing in intensity. The thought should have terrified her, but the most she could manage was a resigned stoicism. She was going to die. Her babies were going to die. Jack was most likely dead, and the Doctor would no doubt be driven insane.

Finally wondering why Romana hadn't killed her, she reluctantly opened her eyes. Not quite sure if she was dreaming or hallucinating, she blearily put a hand on her rescuer's arm. "Jack?"

"Sorry, sweetheart. I think you're a little out of it." Then, he flashed her a confident smile, hoping to put her at ease. "But Jack is one lucky man."

She cried silently. Hallucinating Jack was just too much. She couldn't even do it properly. He was wearing the midnight blue uniform of the Time Agency rather than his greatcoat. Squeezing her eyes shut, she wanted nothing more than to escape into her mind, but her hallucination wouldn't let her.

Lightly tapping her face, the Time Agent worried that she was in worse shape than he thought. "Hey, stay awake. Was that woman your jailor? Were you taken by one of the slaver syndicates?"

"Go away," she mumbled, trying and failing to grab his hand. "Can't even hallucinate you right, Jack. I'm dying. Go away."

In that instant, she was gripped by a contraction strong enough to pull her to a greater awareness. Whimpering, she clutched her stomach, convinced that she and her children were about to die alone.

Her hallucination stubbornly wouldn't leave her, however. Pulling out a small thermos, he put it to her mouth. "Here, doll, drink this."

The feel of the refreshingly cool liquid was pure bliss. It was sweet and salty and had a hint of ginger in the mix. Swallowing greedily, she forced her eyes open. Whatever it was, it helped clear her head. Her hallucination held her in his arms, although this time she was positive that he was quite real.

"Jack."

"How are you feeling, honey?"

With a strangled sob, she confessed, "Everything's wrong. I can't even sense you. I know you were hurt, but I'm so messed up I can't feel you now. I don't want to die here, Jack. Please don't let me die."

Telepath, the agent realized with a start, and obviously delirious. When exactly was he? There were very few human telepaths, in any era. She must have been quite the prize for the slavers.

He did his best to keep her calm. "You're going to be fine, sweetheart. Do you know how far apart the contractions are?"

Morosely, she shook her head, too overwhelmed to notice his odd behavior. "Where's the Doctor?"

"Was there a doctor here?"

Feebly, she gripped his arm. "He promised everything would be alright. Where is he?"

"He'll be here," he promised with the ease of a practiced liar.

When the pain made her cry out soon afterwards, he gently encouraged her while rubbing her back. The scars he'd discovered when undressing her were thick and ropey, attesting to a lifetime of abuse. But she looked up at him with such an expression of trust and devotion that he felt a momentary pang of jealousy for a man he would never meet. She obviously cared for this Jack greatly.

Briefly closing his eyes, he realized he'd already made his decision. If the Time Agency caught him here, there'd be hell to pay. But, he couldn't abandon the poor woman now, not after saving her from the slaver. While she was weak enough that she'd most likely die giving birth, she didn't deserve to die alone. No one did.

* * *

><p>The Doctor woke slowly to a pounding headache. The psychic shock he'd experienced as Melissa's fear and Jack's pain had crashed together had knocked him out for upwards of six hours. It took him a few minutes to get his bearings, but when he did, he jolted upright.<p>

"Hold up, Mister. Give yourself a few minutes for the pain to subside."

Peering at Martha, he did no such thing. "Jack?" he demanded tersely.

She briefly looked away, and his anxiety ratcheted upwards. "He's in surgery. I haven't been told anything else."

Seeing the devastation on his face, she gave him a hug. "I'm so sorry, Doctor, but that's not the worst of it."

His face became a brittle mask. "Tell me."

The Brigadier was hit with a dart that contained the same ingredients as the one found in Newport. The digilitum didn't affect him, but the combination of sedatives caused him to go into cardiac arrest." Hesitating a second, she finished remorsefully. "They weren't able to revive him. He died at the scene."

For a moment, he contemplated the fact that Alistair had died saving his life, much like his friend had tried to do over thirty years ago. It was only when he noticed Martha's pained expression that he realized the terrible revelations were far from over.

"Go on."

"Someone attacked the house. We don't know who because the Hub was destroyed at the same time. Whoever it was killed Drocina with digilitum and took Melissa." Hurriedly, she added, "Your brother was at the scene. He'd been shot and poisoned with aspirin and sodium pentathol. The healers have induced a coma to try to give him time to purge the aspirin from his system. They haven't given up hope that he might eventually recover."

Reeling, he had to briefly lie back down until the room stopped spinning. When he finally rose, his entire body was tensed, as if he were a coiled snake ready to strike. "Who was in the Hub?"

She flinched at the fury in his voice. "Ianto. He offered to trade with Mickey because Mum and Dad were visiting and wanted to take us out."

For a moment, his expression softened to one of sympathy. "His death wasn't your fault, Martha."

But then, the emotionless mask was back in place. Without another word, he stalked out of his hospital room, only to be stopped by the two Secret Service agents flanking his door. Once he was in the hallway, they wouldn't let him out of their sight, but he ignored them as he now ignored Martha.

It only took him a few seconds to find a nurse who had enough authority to tell him that Jack wouldn't be out of surgery anytime soon. Briskly, he demanded to see the Captain's personal effects. As soon as he opened the box, the Doctor grabbed his bond mate's Vortex Manipulator and teleported away.

* * *

><p>Marshall was talking heatedly to someone on the phone when the Doctor dramatically appeared in his kitchen.<p>

"What the—?"

Prying the phone away from his fingers, the Time Lord hurled it against the wall. He then grabbed him by the left arm, twisting it around until it had been forced painfully behind his back. Finally, he shoved him into a dining room chair.

Released, the man was belligerent. "You don't have any right to be here! By the time the police get through with you, you'll be the one sitting in jail for the next few years. I'm human! I've still got rights, you asshole. You don't—"

Marshall abruptly stopped talking, his vocal cords strangled with terror. He'd looked into the Doctor's eyes.

"No outside authorities, not this time, Major. This time, you're going to answer to me."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

It was a lie of desperation, and it only further enraged the Time Lord. Grabbing him by the shirt collar, the Doctor pressed his hands to his face, entering the twisted man's mind before he could blink. With the force of an explosion, he blew every one of Marshall's memories open.

It took him less than a second to wade through the sewer that was Marshall's mind, and he found little there to mitigate the man's guilt. From an early age, the burly man had taken pleasure in degrading those weaker than himself, and he'd continued the practice throughout his military career. When he'd been jailed for assaulting Melissa, he had blamed the victim, and his censure had only increased when he had discovered that she was, in fact, an alien.

He'd deluded himself for so long that he truly believed he'd been the victim of some vast alien conspiracy. Ironically, he was correct to a certain extent. The Doctor recognized all too well the person who had initially approached him about organizing like minded people into the group that would later be called Earth First. The betrayal hurt like a physical wound. Marshall was a psychopath, yes. But, he'd been primed and pointed like a gun by someone the Doctor had once professed to love. The depth of the betrayal made him sick to his stomach.

Choking down his bile, the Doctor zeroed in on the last bits of Marshall's relevant memories. The man didn't know where Melissa had been taken or why she hadn't simply been killed. But, he had been the one to make arrangements for the assassination attempt and the destruction of the Hub.

Even after proof of Marshall's complicity, the Doctor had intended to leave him with nothing more than a nasty headache. As he withdrew from the madman's mind, however, he found the one memory that Marshall had desperately tried to hide.

With a sick lurch, the infuriated Time Lord recognized the basement of the Melissa's house in Colorado. She was still conscious, although she looked to be dazed. He watched with growing wrath as Marshall wrenched her sweater over her head, effectively trapping her arms in a tangle of wool.

_He fumbled at his pants, and then he was pressing against her chest with every intention of forcing himself into her mouth. Unexpectedly, she twisted underneath him, exciting the sick, deranged psychopath. Squeezing her throat in order to feel her thrash for air, he ejaculated against—_

The Doctor's rage tore through his captive's mind, and the screech that escaped the dying man's mouth was bloodcurdling to hear. His memories were yanked and ripped and torn asunder until there was nothing left but an empty shell. With his own abrupt cry, the Doctor wrenched himself away, sinking to the linoleum floor, horrified at what he had done.

For a brief moment, he was so repulsed by his actions that he couldn't move. But, he brutally compartmentalized his self-loathing in order to take advantage of the information he'd gathered. He might not know where Melissa was being held, but he now knew who was behind it. He'd go to the Citadel and rip it apart if need be to find out what Romana had done to his bond mate.

Glancing at the empty shell of a human, the enormity of what he'd done finally hit him. He'd acted as judge, jury and executioner in one fell swoop, and he hadn't given the condemned an opportunity to beg for mercy. Moreover, the brutally honest part of his mind recognized that he would gladly do it again.

He wasn't sure how to feel about that. He suspected it made him a monster, but after what he'd seen in Marshall's mind, he couldn't rally enough guilt to feel that way. Perhaps later, once he'd had sufficient time to contemplate his actions, he'd feel differently. But for now, all he wanted to do was find his wife.

As he input the complicated calculations necessary to take him to Gallifrey, an unwelcome presence popped into existence behind him.

"I don't know why that blond bimbo sent me to help. Looks like you're doing well enough on your own."

Whirling around to face John Hart, the Doctor's rage rapidly dissipated. The man had been attacked by something fearsome, and he had a sinking feeling that he knew the perpetrator. All but two of his potential timelines had been destroyed. One ended in a very nasty, imminent death and the other was dependent upon Hart's unwavering obedience. The Time Lord knew which one he'd pick.

"I'm sorry. No being should tamper with another's free will."

"Spare me your platitudes." Hart sounded as grating as usual, but it was clear that he was shaken. "I should have known as soon as the bitch mentioned Jack that I was going to regret it. She told me to protect Torchwood, but that's easier said than done when everyone hates my guts. So, I said 'fuck it' and warned you all, but it seems the Bad Wolf didn't consider that the definition of protection. Well, fuck her, too."

Both men momentarily held their breath, terrified that the insult might somehow call her forth. When nothing happened, the Doctor gazed at Hart compassionately.

"What did she ask you to do?"

"She didn't ask me shit. She burned a set of coordinates in my freaking brain. I see them even when my eyes are closed. That's what she fucking did to me. Said you had a delivery to make and that you'd need the coordinates. Guess she didn't want me to forget."

A delivery? For the first time since he'd woken up in the hospital, the Doctor had a surge of hope. "Tell me."

The ex Time Agent wrote the complex spatial and temporal coordinates on a scrap of paper and handed it to the Doctor. "I know what planet this is, and I really don't want to go."

The Doctor recognized the location as well. "Then don't. She told you to protect Torchwood, and right now that's Jack. He's in hospital in Washington, D.C."

"Jack's been hurt?"

At the Doctor's nod, he scowled. "Damn. I hate hospitals." But he allowed the Time Lord to grasp his hand and engage the teleport.

Dropping Hart off in the lobby with strict instructions not to bother anyone, the Doctor searched for Martha. She sat in the empty cafeteria drinking a coffee. As soon as she noticed him, she clutched him in a hug.

Brusquely, he put his hands on her arms, breaking free from her embrace. If he allowed someone to comfort him, he just might break down completely. "I have to find the TARDIS, Martha. Where is she?"

He could tell by her expression that she desperately needed to tell him something, but she nodded and answered his question first. "The TARDIS is under guard in a hangar at Andrews Air Force Base. UNIT thought it would be safest there."

Nodding, he began to input the coordinates that would take him to Andrews, but the physician gently put her hand over Jack's Vortex Manipulator.

"Jack's out of surgery. The next few hours are critical, but . . . ."

"But?" The tears that stained her face weren't happy ones.

"But," she admitted slowly, "one of the bullets lodged against his spine. The other shattered his left femur. If he lives, the doctors don't think he'll ever walk again. I thought you might want to be the one to tell him."

"I can't." Before she could express her disappointment, he disappeared.

* * *

><p>The TARDIS was being stored in the hangar where the U.S. Air Force kept the President's airplane, Air Force One. The Doctor guessed you couldn't get much safer than that. Since the guards were on the outside, it was easy to appear on the inside to retrieve his ship.<p>

Talking out loud as he input the coordinates, he explained to the old girl how important it was to arrive precisely when and where he'd been told. He wasn't sure how much his ship could understand, but it never hurt to try. He needn't have worried. He landed precisely when and where he should have. Rushing outside, he ran headlong into Jack's sonic blaster. Taking a good look at a younger version of the Captain, he decided the Bad Wolf had a sick sense of humor.

Young Jack missed Melissa's reaction to the noise of the TARDIS materializing in the small room. He had sprung to his feet at the odd sound, his blaster at the ready. When a blue rectangular box appeared in front of him, he didn't know quite what to make of it. He was wary enough to consider it a threat, however, and gripped his weapon. Still, he was more than a little taken aback when a skinny man wearing a fitted brown suit and trainers barreled out of the strange ship so fast that he ran straight into his blaster.

"Put that away," the Doctor snapped as he sidestepped the gun in order to assess his wife's condition.

Like his older self, this Jack showed an ability to accept orders when it really mattered. Without protest, he lowered his weapon.

Kneeling beside Melissa, the Doctor held her hand, his emotions so jumbled that he didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "I'm here, Em. It's going to be alright."

He feared he was lying. Another contraction shuddered through her leaving her gasping. She was dangerously pale, and for the first time since she'd been put on bed rest, he honestly feared for her life.

"Drocina?"

"She's busy. But, don't worry. Jack and I are going to take care of you.

Scanning her with the sonic screwdriver, he gently smoothed her dull, coarse hair. No wonder she was so pale and out of breath; only her right heart was beating. Scanning the room as he tried to decide how to best treat her, he noticed an important absence.

"Not to get caught up in tangents, but is Romana likely to find us?"

"If Romana's tall, crazy and ginger, then you don't have to worry about her. She's dead."

He was somewhat taken aback by the answer, but he had no time to spare to mourn Romana's passing. "Good, I think we have enough to worry about at the moment."

Before he could take away her pain, Melissa almost crushed his fingers in response to a new contraction. By the time it was over, she was slipping towards unconsciousness.

"Hang in there, Emma. We're going to get you into the TARDIS in just a minute."

Briefly leaving her, he approached the Time Agent. He appeared to be almost identical to the man he'd left in a hospital on Earth. Since the older Jack had no recollection of their meeting prior to World War II, he guessed that this Jack was living the portion of his life that would be stolen by the Time Agency. Even so, it was prudent to be circumspect. He didn't want to cause any more predestination paradoxes than necessary.

"Can you help me get her into my ship?"

"Looks a little small for one, let alone two."

The Time Agent didn't intend to sound belligerent, but it had slipped out. Here, finally was her Jack, ready to save the day. Only, it looked like her rescuer was woefully unprepared. She deserved better.

"It's bigger on the inside." He replied dismissively before chiding the younger man. "Now, are you going to waste time arguing any more, Agent, or are you going to help?"

"It's bigger on the inside," he echoed with a healthy dose of skepticism.

"Yes," the Doctor snapped, forgetting for a moment to be careful. "A little perspective here, Captain. You can see she needs help. Perhaps you can restrain your sarcasm until we're inside my ship."

The Agent had never been addressed as captain in his entire life, although he liked the sound of it. Suspicious, he nevertheless acknowledged the truth of the man's statement. Together, they helped the frail woman into the blue box.

Bigger on the inside didn't begin to cover it. But, he ignored his shock as the man led him past an intriguing control room into an incredibly advanced sickbay. Within minutes, they had the pregnant woman settled.

Temporarily standing in the background, the agent watched the man with the impossible ship place an oxygen tube under the pregnant woman's nose. After a minute, she seemed more alert, although the extra oxygen could not erase her obvious frailty. When he caught her staring at him with a frown on her face, he intentionally smiled.

"Glad to see you resting more comfortably, Emma."

The other man had definitely called her Emma, so it surprised him when her frown deepened.

"Doc, what's the matter with Jack? Why is he calling me Emma all of a sudden?"

So this was the physician, not Jack. Why was she still calling him Jack, though? She seemed to be lucid now.

Sitting beside her, the Doctor took her hand and blithely lied. "Earth First got their hands on a psionic grenade. We were attacked leaving the summit, and Jack was caught on the edge of the blast. He's bound to be a little confused."

She unquestioningly accepted his explanation, her features smoothing into a wry grin. "Nothing's ever easy with us, is it, Jack? I guess I should be thanking the Bad Wolf for sending you to me, but I wish she'd just taken care of Romana in the first place."

"Yeah," he agreed after a second's pause. "I guess it isn't."

A glance at the physician had instantly convinced the Time Agent to play along. He saw no reason to crush an ailing woman's comforting delusion. Besides, whoever the man was, he had some interesting tech. Maybe they could work out a deal. As the woman closed her eyes, he arched his eyebrows at her doctor.

The Doctor encouraged Melissa to rest before going over to speak to Jack. He needed to convince him to play along for the duration or she'd likely become too suspicious. At the moment, she didn't have the strength to worry about anything except giving birth.

"Thank you for not giving yourself away. Have you ever heard of spatial genetic multiplicity? You look remarkably similar to her mate. In fact, I'd say you're his identical twin."

"You're welcome," he replied shortly. "Look, I don't know what's going on, and for the most part I don't care. But, I've got a feeling that there's a reason why her Jack isn't with her right now, and I'm willing to play along so long as there's something in it for me."

The Time Lord regarded him warily. "If it's credits you want—"

"I don't give a damn about credits. I'm looking for some assistance with a temporal tracking algorithm."

"You want to track someone through time." He really didn't like the sound of that.

"Actually, I want to track someone through time and space, but I can find the mistake in the spatial equations on my own. Your ship looks advanced enough for you to manage the rest."

He looked down at Jack's Vortex Manipulator, suddenly glad he'd left its twin in the console room. He would have noticed the similarity immediately. "I promise to do what I can, but only after she delivers, and only if you promise to keep up the charade."

He grinned. "Doc, I think I'm going to like working with you. It's a deal."

The Doctor couldn't bring himself to smile. This was wrong in so many ways, but it was the only thing he could come up with at the moment. The man in front of him was about to meet his family for the first time, and if he died in Washington in the future, it would be the last time as well. There were some days when the Time Lord hated the intricacies of time travel.

* * *

><p>The veteran Time Agent hadn't been present at all that many births, but he'd seen enough to know that the woman's labor was longer than she could safely tolerate. Although the Doctor (with a capital D, definite article) had been able to take away her pain, each contraction had weakened her further, until she was bathed in sweat and trembling with exhaustion long before it was time to push.<p>

He'd been relegated to a supportive role, and had spent several hours holding her hand and rubbing her back. But, that was fine; he had a lot to think about. The woman wasn't carrying triplets; she carried twins. One of the fetuses had two heartbeats, just like the woman he was desperately trying to find. There had to be some sort of connection, but he couldn't quite figure it out.

The pregnant woman hadn't spoken much; it simply took too much effort. She squeezed his hand when she could, and occasionally she would stroke his thigh, each caress underscoring that her Jack was a very lucky man.

Or maybe he wasn't. The Doctor wouldn't discuss him, even when she dozed, saying only that he was unable to attend the birth. He had a suspicion that Jack's absence wasn't by choice.

When she had fully dilated, it seemed to take forever for the first infant to emerge from the birth canal. It was a boy, perfectly formed, but by his size, born much too early. He gently held her hand as the Doctor whisked the infant away to place him into an artificial womb.

When the Doctor called out that everything was fine, he genuinely sighed in relief, informing Melissa that the baby was doing well. (He still didn't understand why she seemed to have two names.) The complication of premature birth must have been anticipated; the new mother hadn't shown any signs of undue anxiety when the Doctor had rushed off with her baby boy.

His own anxiety shot upwards as he was abruptly forced into the role of midwife when she delivered the placenta only a minute later. It seemed to be intact—not that he was an expert. But, he had delivered two babies previously, one at the spaceport on Boeshane and one in tenth century France. The one in France had died along with the mother, but he didn't like to dwell on that fact, especially now.

Suddenly, she whimpered, and the Doctor apologized from across the room. "Sorry, Em. I can't control the pain and take care of Owen at the same time."

She grimaced, biting back a scream, and young Jack encouraged her soothingly. "Hey, it's okay, Sweetheart. Scream all you like. Just a few more pushes and it'll be all over."

Weakened considerably, it took her more than a few pushes to give birth to a robust baby girl. Jack thought she was the most beautiful child he'd ever seen. She had a slick mass of brown hair to complement her beautiful blue eyes, and he momentarily lost himself in her adoring, guileless gaze.

"She's beautiful, sweetheart."

The Doctor returned to her side to check that nothing had gone wrong with the delivery. Again, everything seemed fine, and his face split into a wide, relieved grin. "Owen's adjusted to his temporary home, and she's excited to be free. Everything's perfect."

Wildly euphoric, Melissa had to agree. After all the worry, everything was perfect. Except, the longer she held her daughter, the more difficult it became to focus. Her hands were so cold; her bloodied feet tingled; and the strange numbness settling in her extremities was distracting. Gradually, her arms fell slack.

When the whine of the sonic screwdriver failed to spark any type of reaction, the Doctor took the baby out of her hands. Sitting beside his bond mate, he blinked back tears. Her right heart was faltering, and soon it would fail like the left.

Stroking her cheek, it was all he could do not to sob. "Don't give up, not now. Our children need their mother."

His heartfelt plea tugged at her awareness and she opened her eyes. "Beloved."

They spoke without words, their very souls joined as he poured every ounce of strength he could spare into her failing body. They both knew it wasn't enough to heal her hearts, but her smile was serene as she turned her gaze to the other man in the room.

"Jack."

The young Time Agent looked down at the woman before him, taking in her dull gray hair, the gauntness of her frame and her deathly pale complexion. Strangely, her appearance didn't repulse him. She had such a sense of peace that he couldn't help but wish he'd met her earlier.

"You did great, sweetheart."

"And so will you," she quietly promised. Her eyes welling with tears, she squeezed his hand. "Promise me one thing, Jack."

He had the strangest desire to confess that he wasn't the man she thought he was, that he wasn't her Jack, but he was able to squelch the impulse for her sake. He kissed her forehead.

"Anything."

"Take Owen to Boeshane one day, when he's old enough to understand"

He could feel the blood drain from his face. Thankfully, she merely thought him upset at the request.

"I know they rejected you, but it was part of your life, Jack. You said yourself it made you who you are."

Somehow, he managed to answer. "Yeah."

The Doctor quickly interrupted before she could accidently reveal anything else. "Get some rest, Emma. Lovingly, he covered her with a thick, warm blanket. "I'll be back once we get our daughter cleaned up."

After scanning her one last time, the Doctor led his visitor to the nursery, where he began to bathe their daughter. He let the Time Agent ask the questions, fearing he might say too much if he babbled away.

"So, I've crossed my own timeline. That's a first. You going to tell me what's going on?"

"Spoilers." His jaw snapped shut. He hated that word.

"Yeah, I guess it's not a good idea to know too much about my own future. I still need help with that algorithm, though."

"Let me finish up here."

Briskly, the Doctor bathed the baby and scanned her with the sonic. She was perfectly healthy. After he'd dressed her in a soft pink sleeper, he wrapped her in the tie-dyed blanket that had been a gift from Rose.

"Would you like to hold her while I check your equations?"

Jack looked at the baby like she was a live grenade. "I won't cause some sort of paradox?"

"Nah, it's not as if she'll remember it, Captain."

Gingerly, the Time Agent took the baby out of the Doctor's hands. Carefully supporting her head and neck, he peered deeply into her inquisitive blue eyes. She was stunning. Holding out his index finger, he watched in awe as she gripped it, smiling all the while.

"Hello, Sweetheart. I hope I get to meet you again."

A few minutes later, the Doctor returned with his Vortex Manipulator. The Time Lord appeared troubled. "You did this yourself? You didn't have help from a mysterious blonde?"

"No. Why? How far off am I?"

"You're not, and that's precisely the problem. This goes beyond impossibilities, Captain."

Tearing his eyes off the baby, Jack studied the Doctor. He didn't understand what the man was trying to say.

"Look, usually I'd do a little flirting and suggest a fabulous evening of sex to try to convince you to help me. But, frankly, as much as I'm sure we'd both enjoy it, we don't have the time. You need to get Melissa some help, and I need to find a—the woman I'm trying to find. So, if you can't help me with the equations, it's best if I leave."

With deep affection, the Doctor put his hand on Jack's shoulder. "I can't help you with your equation because there was nothing wrong with your calculations. It was your search parameters that were off."

"But, I input the time she would need me the most."

Abruptly, his eyes widened in shock. If the Doctor was telling the truth, then every assumption he'd made about the woman with two hearts had been wrong. And, Time Lords were much more than a myth. He needed to find her now more than ever.

Long practiced in hiding his thoughts, he quickly assumed a puzzled expression. "Damn, my timeline's not crossed, it's tangled. So, are we all going to disappear in a puff of logic?"

"Well, since we haven't yet, I think we're safe. And, I'd warn you to avoid paradoxes in the future, but I know I'd be wasting my breath."

He grinned. Now that sounded like something to look forward to. "Thanks, Doc. I won't forget this." Tapping in a new command, he flashed out of existence.

The Doctor watched him teleport, a rueful frown on his face. "Yes, you will, Captain, and I'm sorry."


	26. On Death and Dying

Author's Notes - This chapter is a bit slower paced, but the rollercoaster ride isn't over yet. Apologies if the last one was a bit confusing with everything happening at once. Just a reminder that these stories went AU at Journey's End. So, my take on certain things will obviously be different. I'm a little nervous about reactions to this chapter, so I'd love to hear everyone's opinions. Hope you enjoy!

And, thanks to **dwatlaskrhtcm** and **TheGirlWithTheOnyxRose** for their feedback.

* * *

><p>"Jack?"<p>

Sitting beside her bed, the Doctor gently held Melissa's hand. "Just me, I'm afraid. How are you feeling?"

It took her a while to decide. As her gaze swept the room, she realized that she was in the critical infirmary of the Time Lord Citadel. Something was being pumped into her veins, and she had a vague awareness that she was far from perfect. Automatically, her hands moved to her stomach; it was flaccid and sore. Only then did she remember why she would be in such a place.

"They're alright?"

Carefully, he allowed her to sense his joy at their children's birth. "Of course they are. You're going to be a fantastic mother."

His exuberance quickly faded to be replaced by worry and grief, and she distantly understood that something was terribly wrong. "You're going to have to tell me sometime."

"I know," he answered with a sigh. "Just . . . not yet. You need your rest."

Pressing a kiss against her forehead, he stroked her cheek until the drugs carried her away once again. The healers had placed her in a simulated coma in order to conserve what little strength she had left. After forty hours, it seemed to be working. Her hormone levels continued to stabilize, and they estimated she would be able to regenerate in another seventy-two hours.

Wandering a bit, he found himself in his temporary quarters. Their daughter was sleeping peacefully in her cot, and Owen was awake, kicking and poking at the artificial womb as it played a recording of his mother's voice. The children's babysitter lay wearily on the bed nearby.

"How's Emma today?"

The Doctor studied his older brother, wondering when he'd stop being so stubborn. Brax looked as pale as his bond mate, although he adamantly refused to be confined to the infirmary. The aspirin had been purged from his bloodstream, but there was permanent damage to his liver and kidneys. It was taking longer to purge the sodium pentathol. He'd been given a high enough dose that it had spread throughout his tissues, temporarily robbing him of the ability to regenerate.

"They allowed her to remain conscious for a few minutes. Your healer thinks she'll need another seventy-two hours."

"Have you seen Captain Harkness today?"

When the Doctor answered, it was as if all the emotion had been wrung out of him, leaving a dry husk. "No, I thought I'd check on the children first. They promised they'd contact me if he regained consciousness."

In that instant, Irving Braxiatel realized his brother was very close to the breaking point. Rising slowly out of bed, he stood in front of the Doctor, for once his expression warm and open.

"You need to rest, Little Bro. You're not going to lose either one of them. Emma will be new and vibrant in a matter of days. And, Harkness is too stubborn to die and too stupid to know he shouldn't be able to walk. You won't be helping either one of them or your children if you collapse from exhaustion.

Something of his speech must have had an effect, because the Doctor finally met his gaze, although his eyes were haunted. "I've lost them all, Brax. I've become everything I fear. I ripped Marshall's mind. I'm a monster."

It took every ounce of will not to shake some sense into him. But, Irving Braxiatel was old enough to know that stress manifested itself in all sorts of ways. And guilty self-recrimination was the Doctor's specialty. He took two hesitant steps forward. Awkwardly, he embraced his younger sibling, realizing with a start that he hadn't done so since that first joyful meeting on the Plass.

"They both love you too much to do anything of the kind. And you aren't a monster. You're a Time Lord who was pushed too far. Marshall harmed your bond mates. His life was yours to take, and you know it."

His brother didn't cry in front of him often. In fact, Brax had only seen him cry once, at the death of their mother, when the Doctor was merely Theta Sigma and young enough to sleep with a light beside the bed. But his entire body shook, and the things he'd seen in Marshall's mind spilled out in a jumbled rush.

"He arranged it all, the Hub, the shootings. He killed Alistair and Ianto, and crippled Jack. But I would have let him live until I saw how much he enjoyed hurting Emma. I think it was worse, seeing her suffer as a human. She struggled and it excited him, and then he . . . and I couldn't—I wouldn't see more. I should have killed him permanently on the Valiant. I asked Jack, knowing it wouldn't take, but that wasn't fair either. I can't make the people I love into weapons; it's wrong. But, I'm afraid of what I might do. You know what I'm capable of. I killed you. I killed all of you. It doesn't matter that it was the only way. The universe or the Time Lords, and I chose the universe."

Brax inwardly cringed as the Doctor related Marshall's crimes. Again, he had to stifle his natural impulse. There was a part of him that wanted to shout and scream to make the Doctor acknowledge that killing Marshall should have been extremely satisfying and that wallowing in such self-loathing served no purpose.

However, attempting to make him feel good about killing the deviant was no doubt futile and counterproductive. Aside from the mythical Other, his brother was likely the most morally conscious Time Lord to ever walk under Gallifrey's twin suns. No, he would never enjoy killing, but making him see it was occasionally necessary was vital to his mental wellbeing.

"You chose the universe because it was the right choice, just like killing that psychopath was the right choice, Doc. When you named yourself, you told me you wanted to make people better, and you do. But you've got to remember that surgeons are doctors, too, Bro. Human surgeons cut out cancers that invade the body. They do it for the benefit of the patient, but the cutting can hurt. You do the same. Only, the cancers you cut out can kill planets and species, not just individuals. Take my word for it, Doctor; you're no monster. You're a healer as much as Drocina was. You just do it on a larger scale."

"I've never considered that," he finally remarked, the tenor of his voice slightly befuddled. "That's actually how you think of me?"

Smiling, he clapped his brother on the back. "Yes, you idiot. You do the things the rest of us won't. We're the cowards, Doc, not you."

As if committed to proving Brax wrong, he confessed, "I relished killing him."

Silently counting to a hundred, the older sibling acknowledged that some things would never change. "Of course you did. You'd have to be a Cyberman not to, but I'm not going to argue with you any more. If you want to go continue to beat yourself up about it, I've got a hair shirt I picked up on a visit to the Monastic Moon of Moydra you can wear."

"There's no such place."

"Oh? Then, I suppose I don't have one. Perhaps you can keep the self-flagellation to a minimum, then." With that, he sat on the bed and picked up a book.

The Doctor watched his brother do a relatively good imitation of reading for several minutes before he spoke.

"Brax?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you aware that you're a real pain in the arse?" Then, almost inaudibly, he added, "Thanks."

Looking up at him, the elder Time Lord allowed a hint of a smile to flit across his face. "You're welcome. You do know that's what older brothers are for, don't you?"

"What? Being a pain in the arse?"

"Of course, Doctor. What else? Now, either get some real sleep or go sit by your Captain."

He left. He couldn't sleep. Without Jack and Melissa, he thought his nightmares just might drive him mad.

* * *

><p>Waking gradually, Jack realized he was in some sort of hospital, but he couldn't remember why. He just knew that he felt horrible.<p>

"Doc?"

The Time Lord looked awful, like he'd gone on a weekend bender and never came back. His face was unshaven, and his eyes were bloodshot and glassy. But as soon as Jack spoke, an exhausted smile softened his harsh features.

"Finally get tired of sleeping, eh?" Putting his book down, the Doctor grinned at the Captain in unabashed delight. At last, a positive sign.

"Maybe." He hurt enough to think sleeping might be preferable to the pain.

Clumsily, he put his hand up to his face. He was being given oxygen, long enough for the prongs to irritate his nasal passages. Without really thinking, he tried to pull it away. The Doctor was at his side in an instant, holding his hand. Jack forgot all about the discomfort of the oxygen tube.

"You look like shit."

"Yeah, well pot and kettle there, Captain. How are you feeling, Jack?"

"I've had deaths that hurt less than this."

As soon as he had said it, he wished he could take it back. The Doctor had flinched as if he'd been struck. Only then did Jack realize how close he must have come to dying for good. Unfortunately, he could barely remember what had happened. There'd been an ambush, but by whom and why he couldn't quite grasp.

"I don't remember . . . ."

Watching Jack fight to remain aware, the Time Lord unabashedly caressed his cheek. "It doesn't matter, not yet. We almost lost you. You need to rest and let your body heal."

The 'we' reminded him of something very important. "Melissa, she'll be worried. I should tell her . . . ."

He didn't finish his sentence before unconsciousness took him again.

* * *

><p>When Jack was aware of waking again, the Doctor was sitting in the same spot by his bed. The Captain still felt like someone had used his body as a football, but he was much more aware of his surroundings.<p>

"Doc?" The exhaustion was still too apparent on the Time Lord's face. In fact, he thought the Doctor looked about as bad as he felt.

Once again, though, he took Jack's hand in his. "Hello, Captain. How are you feeling this time?"

Suddenly, he remembered and groaned in denial. "I got shot, Doc. I feel like crap."

A pleased grin broke out on his bond mate's face, and the Captain couldn't help but notice he choked back something that sounded suspiciously like a sob. "Yes, well, at least your charming personality is intact. Although, I'm afraid you're going to feel that way for a while."

Recalling exactly where he'd been when he was shot, he peered intently at the Time Lord. "You okay?"

Snorting, he almost said okay was a relative term, but he sobered rapidly as he remembered their friend's fate. "I'm fine. Alistair pushed me out of the way." He paused and then roughly continued. "He didn't make it."

Jack tried to think of the old soldier as gone for good, and couldn't manage it. He quickly changed the subject. "How long have I been out of it?"

"Long enough."

Hell, it must have been a very close thing. Suddenly, he was anxious for an entirely different reason. "Where's Melissa? Me being shot didn't make her go into labor or anything, did it?"

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he wasn't quite sure how to answer. As Jack watched his expression become guarded, he began to panic. "I need to know, Doc. What happened? Are she and the babies okay?"

His answer came out in a mournful undertone. "It wasn't your fault, Jack. You have to know that. Owen's fine. The healers say he'll fully mature in four weeks. And, our daughter's beautiful. Oh, just wait until you meet her, Captain. She's got the most captivating blue eyes and rich, brown hair, and you were quite right, she's going to be a handful. Brax and Flavia are already smitten, as is every other Time Lord who can invent a good enough excuse to see her."

"I'm sensing a very big 'but' here, Doc. You haven't said a word about Melissa. What's wrong?"

"She . . . ." His voice finally broke. "The shooting at the hotel was a diversion. She was the target all along. I managed to find her, but she was so weak already. When she delivered, her hearts had all but failed. The healers are doing their best to keep her alive until she can regenerate, but there's no guarantee she'll make it."

Instinctively, he struggled to rise, only to give up once he understood that his injuries were far worse than he had imagined. Terrified, he begged, "Doc, please tell me I can't move my legs because they've got me on some really fantastic painkillers."

"One of the bullets lodged against your spine, and your spinal cord is swollen as a result. And, you're right femur was shattered. Even with a tissue regenerator, it's going to be a while before you can walk."

He stared at the ceiling, not knowing what to say. He'd died too many times to be afraid of death, but being helpless was another matter entirely. Still, he pushed his fear away; Melissa was all that mattered right now.

"I don't have a while. I need to see her now. She can't think I've just abandoned her."

His face twisted in grief, and the Doctor regretted having to add to his pain. Haltingly, he tried to explain. "She won't. I promise." Again, he struggled to speak. "She's unconscious most of the time, and I don't know how aware she is the few minutes she wakes."

Flat on his back, Jack felt like he'd been punched in the gut. "How long has she got?" he asked unwillingly. He couldn't handle any more bad news.

"Seventy-two hours. If they can keep her alive past that, they think she'll be able to regenerate."

"Then I need to be out of here in seventy-two hours. I'm not letting her go through that without me."

"She won't," he promised, even though he had no idea how he was going to accomplish that.

* * *

><p>Seventy-four hours later, Jack held their daughter in his arms for the first time, completely in awe. All of the horrible things that had happened couldn't mar the miracle of her existence. She was perfect—ten fingers and ten toes, and a cute button nose the Doctor insisted resembled Melissa's when she was a child. Like Melissa, she had mischievous dimples when she smiled. And, like the Doctor, she had brown hair that invariably stuck out in all directions. Somehow, it seemed appropriate.<p>

"You are gorgeous, Sweetheart."

Softly stoking her bare feet, he watched her smile in her sleep. She was worn out from an hour of attempting to reach the mobile above her cot. It had been extremely amusing to watch her reaction when she finally realized that her arms were simply too short. Jack was going to have to label that one The Oncoming Pout.

Her antics had been a welcome distraction from the fuss being made around him. It had taken days of cajoling and bullying on the Doctor's part, but the healers had finally allowed him to sit in a wheelchair. By wheelchair, they meant a wheeled device that all but encased the lower half of his body. As they had strapped it around him, he had tried very hard not to think of Davros, but it was uncomfortably easy to make the comparison.

He didn't care—much. He had no intention of needing the chair for any appreciable length of time. At the moment, it was simply a means to an end. Besides, he thought the baby liked the ride. She had certainly giggled enough as they had zipped down corridors to find Melissa's room.

When he finally saw the condition of his wife, he sharply sucked in his breath. It physically hurt to see her hooked up to so many machines. He knew they were doing the work her body couldn't, but to see her so diminished was heart wrenching.

The Doctor placed his hand on Jack's shoulder in sympathy. Anxiously, the Captain gazed upwards. The Time Lord didn't look much better than he did. Their expressions echoed each other's despair, and their faces illustrated the effects of too much trauma and stress. Jack did his best to smile in encouragement, but it was a fleeting effort at best.

"Brax, would you take the baby from Jack?"

Crossing the threshold of the bleak room, Irving Braxiatel walked to the bed and kissed his bond sister on the forehead before doing as the Doctor had asked. Gently, he took the infant from the Captain's arms.

"I'll be in your quarters with Flavia. Take all the time you need."

Softly patting his daughter's head as Brax took her away, the Doctor did his best to be stalwart. Perhaps once she had regenerated he could afford the luxury of mourning everyone who had been lost. Perhaps they all could. He still hadn't told Jack about Torchwood or Ianto. And Melissa had been too frail to be told about any of it.

When his brother left, the Doctor closed the door. As he worked to take Melissa off the machines that had been preserving her life, he explained what was about to happen to Jack.

"The healers say that Emma's body chemistry has reverted to a pre-pregnancy state. There is no physical reason for her not to regenerate, but she needs to be alert enough to trigger it. They stopped giving her sedatives a few hours ago. She should wake up fairly soon. I'm going to have to unhook her from the machines because her body won't begin the process until she's actually dying."

Reluctantly, he admitted, "It might be uncomfortable, for all of us. Her heart will eventually fail, and we'll feel that through the bond. If it gets too bad, I can sedate you. The healers don't want you to overtax yourself."

"Doc, you even try to sedate me, and you might find yourself regenerating before she does."

"Jack."

"Don't 'Jack' me with that tone of voice. You'd do the same if you were me. I'm not leaving her. Bad enough I wasn't there for the birth. I can't imagine how scared she must have been."

"About that Captain—"

Just then, Melissa cracked open her eyes. "Too noisy."

Immediately, both men were by her side. "How are you feeling, Em?"

She lied bravely. "Not bad." Looking down at the traditional loose, white regneration shift that she had been dressed in, however, she grimaced. "Guess you know that's not true."

"It's going to be okay, Sweetheart. We're both here for you. You won't be alone."

Blearily, she looked at Jack, and couldn't help but notice the contraption he was strapped into. "Why are you . . . . ?"

"Mobility issues."

Troubled, she lifted her head to try to get a better look, but she quickly dropped it back down on the bed. The effort left her too weak to speak for several minutes. When she finally could, she was necessarily brief. "Explain after, okay?"

"As soon as you're better," he promised. "We have a lot of catching up to do."

Reaching out, she took both their hands and gave them a weak squeeze. As the Doctor sat on her left and Jack her right, she drifted in her memories. Gradually, her right heart began to beat at a frenzied pace, trying in vain to do the work of two. She panicked as it faltered, trapped by the most basic of instincts, the fight for survival.

Caught in her emotions, the two men immediately reached out to her mind, calming her as best they could. With their help, she faced her death with a resigned acceptance.

Just before her heart stopped altogether, she gazed lovingly at the Doctor. He was blinking back tears, so she did her best to smile. "I wish I could have held my son."

"You will, Emma. I promise. Just as soon as he's strong enough."

Slowly, she turned to Jack. Tears streamed unabashedly down his cheeks, and she smiled bravely for his benefit. "I love you. That won't change."

"I know, Sweetheart. Everything's going to be alright."

She wanted to reassure him once more, but she no longer had the strength to speak. Gazing devotedly at her bond mates, she finally stopped fighting against the inevitable. In a way, the encroaching darkness was peaceful, and she briefly welcomed it.

But, then she felt a warm tingling spreading throughout her body. It was a familiar sensation, and she eagerly embraced it. An abundance of Life suddenly coursed through every cell of her being. With a gasp, she opened her eyes to witness it. Her skin was glowing, changing, transforming, until, like a butterfly, she burst out of her dry, useless cocoon.

Bolting upright, Melissa smiled radiantly at Jack. "Hello, Sweetie."

* * *

><p>The Doctor blanched as his bond mate transformed into a very familiar figure. And then, he did something he'd promised never to do again. He ran.<p>

Springing out of bed, Melissa tried to follow him, but the room spun as her new shape continued to settle around her. Staggering to the door, she clung to the frame. "In the name of sanity, what the hell does he think he's doing?"

"Sweetheart? Do you want me to get a healer?"

Jack had never felt so impotent. The Doctor had done a runner, and Melissa could barely stand. Worse, he had no way of catching her. Her could only sit helplessly in the chair and watch her struggle to remain on her feet.

"I really think you should get back to bed."

There was a flash of anger in her eyes, which Jack noted weren't such a deep green now. In fact, they were so pale that he couldn't be sure exactly what color they were—blue, green, hazel? Although, he couldn't help but notice they were mesmerizing.

"If you can tell me where that man's run off to, Jack Harkness, maybe then I'll think about getting back to bed. Am I so hideous that . . . ?"

She paused, gripping the doorframe even more tightly as a puff of golden energy burst from her mouth. Her anger was replaced by alarm. "Maybe you're right."

He watched her stagger to the bed, taking in her new appearance even as he worried that she would collapse in front of him. Her hair was lighter, although it was still ginger. And, it definitely could be called kinky this time. Her waves had transformed into beautiful curls. Her body, in a word, was stunning. Under the thin shift, he could see an outline of sensuous curves, and she was much taller, tall enough that he wouldn't have to bend very far to kiss her, if at all.

She made it back to bed with no help from him. Lying on her back, she tensed as another wisp of energy escaped her mouth. Her mind was a torrent. Why had the Doctor run away? Had he been revolted by the mere sight of her?

The regeneration had temporarily weakened her defenses, and Jack could sense the unease swirling in her mind. He wanted to comfort her, but wasn't sure how she'd react.

"Can I touch you?"

She tried to hide her anxiety. Was he repulsed by her, too? "Of course you can. I'm not contagious."

Her hands were larger, just like the rest of her, but their solidity was comforting. Taking her right hand tenderly in his, he brought it up to his lips and kissed it. And, then wanting to reassure her that she was anything but repulsive, he gave her a devilish grin. "I cannot wait to explore that fabulous body of yours. You look sexier than I could imagine, Sweetheart."

A surge of desire shot through her, and when she spoke, her voice was surprisingly sultry. "Oh, that's definitely something I look forward to. In fact, I think this body was made for dancing."

Leering at her, he grinned. "I think you're right. But, you need to rest first. I should let you sleep."

Instantly, her face turned stony, and another word jumped into her mind as she considered her reaction. Was she capricious now? "I want to hold my daughter, Jack. I think I've earned that right."

Excess regenerative energy popped out of her mouth before he could answer. This time, it left her shuddering. With more calm than she imagined possible, she turned to him. "I'll hold her later. Could you find a healer now? I think something's gone a bit wrong."

* * *

><p>Brax found his brother sitting near the waterfall on his estate. Not quite knowing how to start the conversation, he remarked idly. "I took it upon myself to fix the pavilion. I know how much Emma liked it."<p>

Standing, the Doctor faced his older brother, and didn't like what he saw. "Then for the Other's sake, Brax, take a seat. You look terrible. You shouldn't have left the Citadel in your condition."

Sitting, he waited patiently for the Doctor to join him. "Well, since Jack can't walk, it was left to me to talk some sense into you."

"Oh, so it's Jack now?"

He ignored the jibe, turning serious. "Emma has regeneration sickness, but her healers aren't overly concerned." Then, he practically exploded at his brother. "What were you thinking, Thete? The Captain told me you took one look at her and bolted. Do you know how much that frightened her? She was worried that Jack wouldn't accept her, not you, you idiot!"

"Don't call me Thete."

"I'll call you Thete until you stop acting like a child! She regenerated. Get over it! She's done it before and will do so again."

"No, she won't," he spat out, his entire body shaking with rage.

Suddenly wary, the older man demanded, "What do you mean, she won't?"

"She won't," he answered harshly. "I saw her die, in the Library. Dr. River Song, professor of Archeology, nobly sacrificing her life to save mine."

"Spatial genetic multiplicity—"

"She whispered my name, Brax. Not the Doctor, not Thete, not the Oncoming Storm—my name. You tell me how anyone besides Emma or Jack could know that."

"I can't," he admitted quietly. "How did she die?"

"CAL, the data core for the Library was a giant virtual reality, created for the consciousness of the founder's daughter. She'd managed to save everyone on the planet onto the hard drive when the Vashta Nerada invaded. But, her mind couldn't handle so many people, so she shut herself down when she remembered what she'd done. I needed to restart it, but to do so would have stopped my hearts too quickly for regeneration to occur. River, she . . . she knocked me out and handcuffed me to the wall. I watched her sacrifice her life to save mine and the lives of everyone in the Library. In the end, CAL was able to use the teleport to restore everyone who had been stored when they were alive."

"And River?" He couldn't call her Emma. To do so would acknowledge the truth of the Doctor's tale.

"She died, but in the future I had given her a sonic screwdriver that contained a data chip. I found it before it began to loop, and I downloaded her consciousness into CAL. As far as I know, she still exists within the computer."

"You didn't sense she was a Time Lord?"

"No, she was insufferably enigmatic, but she also seemed quite human."

"Perhaps she was a clone."

"She certainly didn't smell like a clone, and she knew Donna."

They sat in silence for a long while.

Standing stiffly, Brax stretched his back. "So you know her future. It's not without precedent. That doesn't give you the right to reject her in the present, Doc. She needs you. Your family needs you. She almost died in childbirth. Aren't you the least bit happy that she survived?"

"Of course I am! But, the thought of losing her frightens me like nothing else!"

"Then don't waste any more time, you idiot! Grieve after she's gone and not before."

Abruptly, the Doctor deflated. He had been quite the idiot. The time they had left should be treasured, not ruined by sulking over something that was already fixed. "How bad is the regeneration sickness?"

"No worse than what you've gone through, I imagine. She's been sleeping for the most part. To be perfectly honest, I'm more concerned about the Captain at this point."

"Jack? What's happened?"

"He refuses to leave her side. Won't get out of that damn chair. The healers have tried to explain that he's only injuring himself further by subjecting his spine to additional compression, but he ignores them quite easily. I had hoped you could be more persuasive."

Rubbing his face, the Doctor stood next to his brother. Walking slowly towards the TARDIS in order to give Brax a chance to keep up, he asked, "How's Owen and our daughter?"

"Doc, if you three don't name that child soon, I'm going to name her myself."

He smiled at the thought. "Now, there's a frightening prospect. I suppose I'll have to find a seer."

"Already taken care of, Bro. The Elder has volunteered."

"Oh? I can't think of anyone better. It's a good thing Romana had the diglitum genetically altered."

"Yes, even if it doesn't make much sense."

"Don't, Brax, just don't. Let her rest in peace. She was obviously disturbed. I prefer to remember her how she was before the War."

"And I would prefer to understand how our president could turn into a stark raving lunatic without drawing undue attention. She had everyone fooled, even me."

"I'm sorry. I know you cared for her."

"A mistake. I won't make it again." The Time Lord stiffened, his entire body rigid. It was obvious he wasn't comfortable talking about his own feelings.

"Brax."

Half-heartedly, he tried to make light of it. "Not everyone's cut out for a relationship, Doc. Besides, I'll be too busy spoiling your kids to sit around and mope."

"I can only imagine." Smiling, he added, "Just don't give our daughter a mini black hole until she's old enough."

"Actually, I was thinking about a drum set."

"Brax?"

"Yeah, Bro?"

"You are truly evil."

* * *

><p>He was about to get the dressing down of his life. To make matters worse, he deserved it. Walking dejectedly into his wife's room, he waited for the recriminations to start.<p>

They didn't. Both Jack and Melissa were asleep. He didn't have the heart to wake them, so he walked over to the table where the healers had placed the artificial womb. Even Owen was sleeping, placidly sucking his thumb. He'd almost made up his mind to find his daughter when he heard Jack stirring.

Crouching beside him, he watched the Captain wake. "Hello."

Jack grunted. "You finished being an ass?"

"I think so, yeah."

They regarded each other guardedly, not quite knowing where to go from there. Jack broke the silence. "You terrified her, Doc."

"I know. I'm sorry. I don't know how to make it up to either one of you."

"You can start by explaining why you ran in the first place."

"It's complicated." He ran his fingers agitatedly through his hair, not knowing how much to tell or when to divulge it.

"With you, it always is, Doc. And this time, you'd better have a damn good reason for what you did. You broke promises to both of us."

He knew that very well. It was one of the reasons he felt so remorseful for his actions. He'd promised Melissa that he'd never run from her again. And, he'd promised Jack that he would never hurt her after doing just that the day they'd discovered who she really was.

Still, he wished in this instance he could lie and say he didn't know why he had run. Unfortunately, given the nature of their relationship, his secret would quickly come to light. It was better to get it in the open now, before they added betrayal to their list of grievances.

"I've seen her die, Jack."

The Captain stared at him, assessing. He had a really bad feeling the Doctor wasn't talking about her recent regeneration.

"Go on."

"Has Donna told you about the Library?"

Jack's bad feeling multiplied tenfold. "She might have mentioned it once or twice."

"Then I won't bother with long-winded explanations. Emma is the spitting image of Dr. River Song."

What could he say? That life was fucking unfair? Maybe he was wrong. "Donna said she knew your name."

"She did. It's the only reason I trusted her."

Jack reached out to cup the Doctor's right cheek, gazing unflinchingly into the well of sadness visible in his deep brown eyes. "We'll tell her together."

Mirroring his bond mate, the Time Lord brought his own hand to Jack's face. Motionless, the two men shared each other's sorrow and disappointment for a long moment before reluctantly breaking contact.

"You really should be getting back to bed, you know." His protest was a token one. Jack was not about to leave, and he was more than grateful for the extra support. He wasn't sure he could have faced her alone.

"One crisis at a time, Doc. I've got a feeling I'm going to be in bed for quite a while once I get out of this thing. Hell, I haven't even gotten to kiss her yet."

Trust the Captain to put everything in perspective. "And you can't do that perfectly well lying down?"

He answered with a grin. "That doesn't count, Doc. Then, she'll be kissing me."

After a few second's thought, the Doctor had to agree.


	27. The Power of a Name

Author's Notes - The pace slows a little bit in this chapter as the characters have a chance to process all that's happened, although there's some suspense as well. Thanks to everyone who's reading, especially **TheGirlWithTheOnyxRose**, **Rwyf-Yn-y-Blaid-Drwg**, and **dwatlaskrhtcm**, who all took time to review the last chapter.

* * *

><p>Melissa woke for the first time in thirty-one hours, twenty-seven minutes and two seconds feeling like she belonged in her own skin. Her disorientation had disappeared, along with the massive headache that had accompanied it. Opening her eyes, she thought she was ready for anything.<p>

Except the Doctor. He was sitting beside her bed, holding Jack's hand. Actually, he was caressing Jack's hand, which never boded well. The only time he was overtly affectionate with Jack was after a cataclysmic event. Her hearts softened for a second, and then she remembered clutching the doorjamb for support as she watched him run from her. He wasn't about to get away with such behavior that easily.

"Doctor, how good of you to come."

He winced. He recognized the anger and mocking sarcasm all too well. He'd heard it several times in the Library.

"I'm sorry."

She answered with venom, not ready to accept his apology. "I hate you."

"Sweetheart, don't."

Taken aback, she examined Jack. He was in a medical support chair, covered in metal and wires from his waist down. That suggested several disturbing possibilities, none of which she was prepared to acknowledge. His face was haggard, as if he was holding onto his sanity by sheer force of will. And his eyes were worse. Abruptly, her anger was replaced by trepidation.

"Tell me what's wrong."

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I ran because I recognized you, Emma. You are River Song."

"Have you gone completely mad? You told me River Song was an archaeologist!"

Very quietly, he argued. "You look and sound exactly like her and she knew my name."

She didn't have a comeback, which made her exasperated, which made her quick to change the subject. "I'd like to hold our daughter now."

"Perhaps we should finish discussing this before—"

Her tone was waspish and commanding. "There is nothing to discuss. Later, someone is going to explain to me why the healers let Jack out in that contraption when he so obviously needs to be under their care. And then, that same someone is going to tell me what happened to Brax and the Elder and everyone else we care about on Earth. But I have spent the last thirty-one hours, thirty-two minutes and fifty-six seconds recovering from a particularly traumatic regeneration, Doctor, and if I don't hold my daughter soon, I just might do you bodily harm."

In spite of himself, the Doctor's lips twitched in amusement. His wife hadn't been this assertive since . . . . Come to think of it, she'd never been this assertive. That might make for some interesting possibilities.

"I think I can do that," he finally answered after he'd successfully masked his mirth.

Judging by her reaction, he hadn't been as successful as he had thought. "Something amuses you, Doctor?"

He couldn't hide the grin. "Actually, yes." Before she could become any more indignant, he quickly explained. "I think I might have to retire as the Oncoming Storm. It's clear the title now belongs to you."

"I hate you." But it was said with deep affection.

"I know." Before she could protest, he stole a page from the Captain's book and kissed her. Assertive, yes, that fit her well now. Before he could get into any more trouble, he went to find their daughter.

* * *

><p>When the Doctor returned holding the infant, he found his bond mates locked together in a kiss. He'd have to ask Jack for his impression of her new body when they were safely alone. Pointedly clearing his throat, he watched them break apart.<p>

Melissa quickly pulled off the white regeneration shift, beaming at the prospect of finally holding her child. Nude, she sat calmly on the bed, an expression of joyful anticipation on her face.

"What? What are you doing?"

The Doctor regarded her with uncertain alarm as she stripped. Smug, she was inordinately pleased that she had managed to shock him, and her desire to do it again was deep-seated. Silently, she added the word 'tease' to the growing list of descriptive adjectives that defined her regeneration.

Patiently, as if he were some sort of child, she explained. "I can't very well breastfeed if I'm wearing the shift, can I?"

"You can do that?"

Her eyes danced in amusement at Jack's unintended outburst. Even after witnessing her regeneration, he'd momentarily forgotten just how alien she was.

Thinking quickly, the Captain gazed at her breasts in frank appraisal. "Sweetheart, you can breastfeed for the rest of your life if that's the result."

She laughed, hardly surprised when it turned low and throaty. "Jack Harkness, you wicked, wicked man. You'll just have to enjoy it while you can. Now, is someone going to hand me our daughter?"

Finally, the Doctor did. Melissa's smile softened into unabashed wonder as she held the wide-eyed child. Playfully, she touched her tiny button nose, eliciting a squeal of delight from her baby.

"You were so worth it, my love."

Inevitably, the child was hungry. Propping herself up against the headboard, Melissa bonded with her daughter as only a mother could do. She'd practically forgotten the presence of the men in the room until the Doctor quietly spoke up.

"Brax suggests we have the naming ceremony tonight."

She felt nothing but sheer relief. "He's alright, then? The Elder told me he had sent her. When I saw it was Romana who hunted us, I feared the worst."

"Not exactly," he admitted with great reluctance. "Romana poisoned him with aspirin and sodium pentathol. There is enough damage that he should regenerate. Unfortunately, the anesthetic has settled throughout his tissues. It will be a weeks before it clears his system."

Her expression became stormy, and he quickly reassured her. "But, he's functioning well at the moment, and there's no reason he shouldn't remain until he is able to regenerate."

"The Arcadian?

"She's fine. In fact, she would like to preside over the ceremony tonight. It's unusual, but not without precedent. And, no one can doubt that she's qualified."

"I owe her my life, Doctor, and the lives of our children. Of course she may."

She focused again on her child, skimming the infant's head with her fingertips as the babe continued to feed. Her hair was the same brown as the Doctor's, but it was incredibly soft and silky, with just a hint of waviness.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, the Doctor spoke up once more. This time, his tone was remorseful. "I'm sorry, to both of you. But there are things you must know."

Jack and Melissa shared a troubled look. Although they'd not discussed it, they both knew the Doctor had been protecting them for their own good. Both were grateful; it had given them some time to rejoice at their children's births. Now, however, reality was back with a vengeance if the grief written plainly on his face was any indication.

At their looks of resigned acceptance, he started with the Brigadier. "Emma, the only reason I'm alive is that the Brigadier pushed me out of the way of a dart. But, the anesthetics suppressed the beating of his heart. He died at the scene."

He gave her a moment to mourn for the old soldier before telling her of Drocina's fate. "And, Romana forced my brother to the house to find you. She found Drocina instead. Brax told me that she bravely fought against her fate in order to buy you some additional time to escape." Unwillingly, he finished, "Romana poured the digilitum down her throat."

"If she wasn't dead, I'd kill her myself."

The steely declaration popped involuntarily out of Melissa's mouth, and she added a whole slew of adjectives to her ever growing list: protective, ruthless, merciless, violent, vengeful. Perhaps the Doctor had been correct when he had jokingly given her the title of the Oncoming Storm.

"Unfortunately, there's more."

"The Hub," she remarked darkly even as she gently patted her child's back.

"What happened to the Hub?" Prepared for the worst, Jack was still blindsided by that particular revelation.

Her eyes darkened as she watched Jack hunch over in the chair. Wondering if he was strong enough to hear this part, she nonetheless answered. "She destroyed it, Jack. The Elder and I felt the explosion."

"She may have pressed the button, but Marshall provided the means. He hired a team to pack the fountain with explosives. When the blast reached the Rift Manipulator, it magnified the force of the explosion to the point that it closed the Rift."

Jack didn't care about trivial details like the Rift. There was only one question that mattered. "Who was there?"

The TIme Lord's eyes reflected so much remorse that he didn't need to be told. Briefly, the Captain closed his own eyes as he acknowledged the young man's death. "Was Ianto the only one?"

"Yes, Mickey and Martha were out with her parents. And, Donna had gone to Chiswick to visit Wilf.

"Is that all?"

Jack wasn't sure why he asked. It wasn't as if he wanted to hear of more death and destruction. But, there was something in the Doctor's expression that told him his bond mate hadn't been completely forthright.

"No."

His refusal to explain further distressed them greatly. They couldn't imagine what else had happened, but it must have been monumental.

"Beloved." The compassion in her voice immediately drew him to her side. "Tell us."

It came out in a breathless rush. He explained how he had taken Jack's Vortex Manipulator to confront Marshall. With an air of self-loathing, he told them how he had invaded the man's mind. And, then, he brutally confessed to ripping that same mind until there was nothing left.

Impatiently cutting through his self-recrimination, Melissa pressed for the full explanation. "We know you, Doctor. You wouldn't have done such a thing without a good reason. We might as well hear the rest of it."

"I saw what he did to you, through his own eyes. I felt the pleasure he took in making you completely powerless. And when he . . . when he remembered violating you, I lashed out until I had obliterated those memories, and all the other vile things that I had seen in his soul."

She peered at him, assessing. Her character was so different now, although considering it was Marshall, she might have felt the same way regardless. She just hoped he wouldn't lecture her about the sanctity of life after she spoke her mind.

"I know you'll only take this the wrong way, Doctor, but thank you. I cannot tell you how incredibly tired I am of being a victim. And if anyone deserved such a fate, it was that despicable man."

He scrutinized her, looking for any sign of sarcasm or condemnation, but he only saw the absolute sincerity in her light colored eyes. Her declaration gave him a key insight in her new regeneration. For much of her previous life, she had no doubt felt like a victim—of circumstance and fate, men like Marshall, the Master and Rassilon, Romana's madness, even the Daleks. Most of all, she had been a victim of the Bad Wolf. No wonder she was assertive to the point of aggressiveness now.

"You know I can't say you're welcome," he replied indulgently.

"I never expected you to. But, thank you anyway."

"That goes for me too, Doc. I know it's wrong, but I'll sleep better knowing he's gone."

Of course Jack would. How could he not? He had intended to apologize to the Captain for letting Marshall torment him in the first place when he noticed Jack's grimace of pain.

"You really should be under the healers' care."

"I will, as soon as the Naming Ceremony is finished. I might not be able to stand for it, but I'll be damned if I'm going to watch it from a bed."

"Fair enough, if you let me help you rest until the ceremony."

"Not sure I need the help, but if it makes you feel better, go right ahead."

Within a minute, Jack was sleeping peacefully in the chair. The two Time Lords regarded each other thoughtfully. Melissa was the first to speak.

"Will he ever walk?"

The Doctor dodged the question. "Brax claims Jack's too stubborn not to know he shouldn't."

"Doctor."

"I can't help but notice, Em; you haven't called me Doc once since regenerating."

"Don't you dare go off on a tangent," she snapped. "Tell me if the healers think they can help Jack."

"'Course they can," he blithely promised before quickly backtracking at the flash of warning in her eyes. "Well, technically, they're sure they can help him, but they're not sure how long it will take. For being such a primitive species, the human spinal cord is quite complex."

Her voice stayed low and even keeled only because she didn't want to wake up the baby or Jack. "If he's not walking in a month, we'll find someone else. Because this is Jack we're talking about, and he's not going to cope with being immobile for very long."

"I know," he acknowledged glumly. "Just give him some time."

Briskly, she focused on the immediate future. After carefully putting the baby in her cot, she stood in front of the Doctor. His eyes swept over her naked body and he felt a flash of heat along with genuine befuddlement.

"Not that I don't like admiring your new body, but what are you doing, Em?"

"You look like you could use some dreamless sleep yourself. I'm going to do the same thing for you that you did to Jack."

As soon as he began his protest, she silenced it with a lingering kiss. His hands moved to her hips of their own accord, tracing the contour of her new skin as he continued to explore her mouth.

Groaning in frustration, she abruptly pulled away. "Not until the three of us can enjoy it. Besides, you need a few hours if we're going to have her ceremony tonight."

Conceding the truth of that statement, he lay on the bed she had so recently vacated. Placing her hands to his face, she watched him relax in sleep. Then, she grabbed the shift and hastily put it back on.

She needed clothes. Everything about her was new, and her previous outfit suddenly didn't seem very appropriate, even if she could have fit in it. It was much too utilitarian. She needed something different, something that would make a statement. What statement, she wasn't quite sure. But, she knew it was going to be fun finding out. Smiling, she went to find the TARDIS and her wardrobe room.

And, if that smile turned brittle a few times as she contemplated her supposed fate, there was no one there to witness it.

* * *

><p>Naming Ceremonies were usually held immediately after birth, in the home, with close family present. But, nothing about the Doctor and Melissa seemed to go the usual way. So, when Brax had mentioned that some guests would be attending, they shrugged and assumed that the High Council had insisted on being present for reasons of their own.<p>

They had not expected to be led to the Panopticon. Nor did they expect it to be filled to the brim with onlookers. They'd been so shocked, in fact, that the Doctor had briefly thought of bolting. However, one glare from his newly regenerated bond mate proved that to be a very bad idea.

His eyes lingered on her as his brother apologized insincerely. She had chosen to wear a long, elegant dress made of the softest green silk. Its scooped neckline draped low enough to tease the eye while leaving something to the imagination. Her waist was defined by an ornate crimson Pyrodian sash that he had given her as a bonding token so very long ago, and in her hair she wore the combs he had given her as well. Her feet were adorned with simple leather sandals, but the Doctor couldn't decide if that was some sort of statement, or if she had simply not wanted the extra height of heels. She could have worn sackcloth for all he cared. She looked stunning, and her cheeks were once again flushed with vitality.

He wore his brown suit without his coat. Flavia had sent a set of presidential robes to his room, but he did have some common sense. The healers had made enough accommodations to Jack's chair to allow him to wear a blue shirt and braces, although the coat would have been too bulky. Come to think of it, Jack's coat was covered in blood, which wouldn't have been remotely appropriate.

The center of attention that evening was dressed in an heirloom gown made of black batiste edged in lace. Jack had joked it was more appropriate to a vampire's christening, but he accepted the different custom with good grace.

The baby was also wide awake and smiling, always a good sign for a Naming Ceremony. In fact, she was giggling as the Captain made silly faces at her while holding her protectively in his arms.

The Arcadian Elder stood in the middle of the Panopticon, waiting patiently for their entrance as Brax continued to apologize for the crowd. Her miniature purple robes were much like those of the Time Lords, although she didn't bother with an elaborate collar.

She stood in front of what a human might mistake as a wooden altar, but neither the Time Lords nor the Arcadians had a belief in a supreme being, unless it was Lady Time herself. In this instance, the structure represented nothing more than the birthing bed where the newborn would normally lie as the seer searched her potential to find her name. Off to the side, there were tiny sashes of different colors, representing the different Houses of Gallifrey. Although the parents' Houses usually influenced the child's, it was not without precedent for the infant's House to differ completely. Finally, the entire area was ringed with glowing candles, representing life, just as they did in so many cultures throughout the galaxy.

Taking everything into consideration, the effect was dramatic. What was normally a private, intimate ceremony had been turned into a formal spectacle. And, from the emotion emanating from the vast crowd, it was as if all of Gallifrey held its breath in anticipation.

Knowing her nerves wouldn't calm with waiting, Melissa bent down to kiss Jack and take the baby from his arms. Confidently, regally, she walked to the Elder, her bond mates trailing at her side. As they approached, the young seer smiled encouragingly. There were no prescribed words associated with the ritual, but she hoped they would follow her lead.

As they reached the high wooden table, she bowed deeply. "Lady Emissary, Lord Doctor, Knight Protector, we meet in the heart of the Citadel for a most solemn and joyful event, the naming of your daughter. With a name comes power, but more importantly, awareness. To attach a name is to attach meaning, whether to a flower, a rock or a Time Lord. Is this what you wish for your daughter?"

Without hesitation, they answered together. "It is."

"Such a request has its own peril. To seek her name necessarily defines her. Her name may be hidden, or terrible, or ordinary, or even dull. Through bond, blood and birth, this child belongs to you. Do you promise to love and nurture her whether her name is a delight or a disappointment?

"We do."

"Then place the babe upon the table, that I might seek her name in the great Web of Time."

Surprisingly apprehensive, Melissa kissed her daughter's forehead as if for protection before gesturing for the Doctor and Jack to do the same. Taking the contented infant from her arms, the Doctor followed suit, and then held her for Jack. Gravely, he then placed her on the middle of the table.

The Arcadian didn't bother with Tarot cards, For this particular audience, there was no need. Standing on a small step in order to give her extra height, she smiled down at the child before her. The babe blew raspberries in response, eliciting nervous laughter from the crowd. Maintaining her outward geniality, the seer somberly placed her hands against the child's head to search her potential.

The silence in the Panopticon was absolute as the Arcadian searched for the babe's name through every one of her potential timelines. It seemed to take forever, although she completed her task in a mere one minute thirty-three seconds. By the time she had finished, the infant had begun to fret, so the Doctor quickly returned daughter to mother. Cocooned in Melissa's embrace, she calmed quickly.

"Devoted parents, it is well known that your true names are hidden. An essential precaution in dark times. But, Gallifrey now basks in the light. Your daughter's name blazes like a beacon throughout time. Her name is—"

"ABOMINATION!"

Amathow's interruption couldn't have been any more dramatic. An anxious murmur swept through the assembled Time Lords as the Chancellor marched to the center of the auditorium.

"She is an abomination and deserves no name. This is no child of Gallifrey! She bears the taint of the Bad Wolf and reeks of humanity! She should be cast out!"

If Jack hadn't been paralyzed, it's doubtful that Amathow would have been allowed to speak at all. As it was, Brax and a slew of CIA operatives wrestled him to the ground, temporarily forcing him into silence. But, the mutterings of the audience grew to such a level that the Arcadian felt the need to take drastic measures.

Raising her hands into the air, she brought them crashing down onto the sturdy wooden table, breaking it in two. "Silence!"

Her percussive demonstration had quite an effect. Just about everyone in the Panopticon was shocked into silence. The baby was the only exception. She wailed, the noise having frightened her greatly. As Melissa tried to soothe her daughter, the Arcadian authoritatively addressed the Time Lords. No one could mistake her for a child now.

"The baby belongs to the Knight Protector, the Doctor and the Emissary by bond, blood and birth. This, I have seen, and this cannot be refuted. The child bears no mark of humanity, save that of the broadest sense. Compassion will be one of her greatest strengths. She is a Time Lord, a child of Gallfrey, and her destiny does not lie with the Bad Wolf. Casting her out would hurl your people back to the Dark Times. I beg you not to reject your future out of fear."

The Doctor, Melissa and Jack stayed silent. The fate of their child was suddenly the fate of the planet, and they didn't want to damage either's chance with ill-chosen or ill-timed arguments.

As the audience turned restless, every single Time Lord Melissa had rescued from Arcadia quietly stood up. They didn't shout or wave or make any noise at all. They simply stood to be counted. While the six thousand plus Time Lords certainly weren't in the majority in a venue that could hold as many as thirty thousand, they were a significant minority. More importantly, their solidarity was unprecedented. Little by little, the crowd fell silent, wondering what was to come.

With every eye seemingly upon him, the young Lord Bruno walked nervously to the center floor. He had returned to Gallifrey with the rest of the expatriates as soon as the Emissary's ordeal had become public knowledge. For days, the newly arrived Time Lords had networked with their fellow students. It had been easy to discover Amathow's intent. And just as easily, they had decided to do something about it.

As he nodded in greeting to the Doctor, Melissa, Jack and the Arcadian, his eyes sought out the members of the High Council. His voice rang with conviction as he spoke for the group.

"Every single one of us standing today reeks of humanity. To reject her is to reject us. And, if you are foolish enough to do so, we are prepared to make Earth our permanent home."

Chancellor Amathow wrenched himself free from the guards to take two steps forward. "You dare place demands on the High Council?"

With a knowing glance at Brax, Flavia briskly approached the spokesman for the younger generation, dismissing the Chancellor as she walked. "Do shut up, Amathow. They have us backed into a corner and you know it."

Hiding a smile, she spoke quietly to Lord Bruno. "To borrow an Earth phrase, it seems that you have surpassed your teachers today. I hope you will be gracious enough in your victory to allow us to save what little dignity we have left?"

Bemused, the young man nodded. He'd expected a shouting match, or at least a tense confrontation, not such easy acceptance of their demands. He was willing to do just about anything within reason at that point.

"Good." Briskly, Flavia addressed the crowd. "The High Council acknowledges the petition before us. Judgment of such an appeal should be made by the High Lord President, an office which is, unfortunately, vacant at the present time."

Teska, the most junior member of the High Council stepped forward. "Cardinal Flavia, I move that the Council now choose a new Lord President, whose term should begin immediately. Judgment of this matter should be swift and decisive."

"Lady Teska, I agree. Castellan, what say you?"

Melissa's replacement, a spry, elderly Time Lord in his twelfth regeneration stepped into sight of the spellbound crowd. "I think the agreement is unanimous, save the Chancellor, who has already made his views known in this matter."

"Excellent. Is there a member of the High Council willing to take such responsibility?"

For a long second, no one spoke. And then, the Castellan once again commanded the limelight. "Cardinal Flavia, I believe there is one person who would be well-suited for the responsibility. I know he prefers not to operate in such a public capacity, but his service to Gallifrey is well known. Perhaps he could be persuaded to serve his planet once again."

The Doctor involuntarily stiffened. He thought he knew what was happening, but the Castellan's speech renewed his doubts. He needn't have worried. While he was somewhat surprised at their ensuing choice, he couldn't have been more relieved.

"Of whom do you speak, Castellan?"

"I speak of Cardinal Irving Braxiatel, longtime leader of the Celestial Intervention Agency, and a key figure in the salvation of our children from the fires of Arcadia. While I know that he usually performs his service in secret, I ask that he be considered for a more public role, a role for which he is eminently suited."

"Council members, what say you?" In unison save Amathow, the other members of the High Council agreed. Flavia turned her attention to Brax, who was suddenly standing beside her. "Cardinal Braxiatel, you have heard the will of the Council. Are you willing to assume such responsibility?"

The Doctor almost snorted with inappropriate laughter as he caught a glimpse of his brother attempting to look modest. That sly devil; he'd obviously intended something like this from the start. Though, he couldn't decide if the students had been knowing participants or unwitting stooges. Either way, they were witnessing a true master of the art of manipulation performing at his very best.

"Cardinal Flavia, I have never sought such an illustrious position. However, I am prepared to do my duty."

He'd responded with such humble sincerity that Flavia almost choked. Noticing her friend's near reaction, Melissa hastily bent her head downwards, seemingly engrossed in the care of her daughter. She was going to kill Brax for not warning them—right before she kissed him unreservedly in gratitude.

Then it hit her; Brax was slowly dying. He would have to regenerate as soon as the sodium pentathol could be purged from his tissues. And with that knowledge, she realized he was a veritable political mastermind. He wasn't just a step ahead of Amathow; he was at least two, if not three.

The High Council didn't bother with an elaborate investiture ceremony. Brax wasn't given new robes, or the Sash and Great Key of Rassilon, or made to interface with the Matrix. After resounding applause of affirmation from the assembled Time Lords, he quickly got down to business.

"Lord Bruno, your petition has merit. I cannot condemn the young ones without condemning myself, Cardinal Flavia, Lady Teska, the Emissary or the dozen others who risked their lives to save yours those many years ago. And, after such a courageous display, I cannot believe that the time we spent as refugees on Earth has tainted your spirit. As for the child we gather here tonight to welcome, I see nothing that would lead me to believe she is anything but a blessing to our people. As the Arcadian foretold, to reject her is to reject our future. And, I will not be responsible for that. I find that the child is a joy, not an abomination. She will most assuredly not be cast out."

The former students cheered wildly at his proclamation, starting a roar of thunderous applause that lasted well over two minutes. When the crowd had finally calmed, the Arcadian sternly addressed Brax.

"High Lord President, if you are quite finished aggrandizing, perhaps we could resume the ceremony? I believe that was the original intent of this gathering, was it not?"

Magnanimously, he let her do just that. With the interruption, the seer had lost her pacing somewhat, but she needn't have worried. The entire assembly waited with baited breath to hear her pronouncement.

"The child's name blazes like a beacon throughout time and is entwined with the destiny of this planet. Even at such a young age, she has inspired others to become something better. She belongs not to one House, but to all. For she is your future, and her name is Hope."

The crowd went wild.


	28. Therapy

Author's Notes - This chapter centers around Jack's recovery, both mental and physical. Again, the pacing is slow, but necessary considering the twists that are yet to be revealed. I couldn't write the chocolate scene without becoming too explicit, so it's been edited out completely. However, I'm sure the reader's imagination will have no trouble filling in the blanks.

Thanks to **TheGirlWithTheOnyxRos**e for reviewing the last chapter. I'm glad she approved of the children's names and hope everyone else did, too. While Hope and Owen are definitely important to the story, I won't be writing too much about their lives. At its core, this series revolves around Melissa, the Doctor and Jack, and will continue to do so. Thanks for reading!

* * *

><p>If the raucous noise was any indication, half of Gallifrey celebrated the naming of the first child born since the end of the Time War. Jack joked that the other half was busy producing their own little miracles. It was a much more somber affair for him as he, the Doctor and Melissa listened with growing dismay to Brax's personal healer.<p>

Jack would walk—eventually. But, according to the Time Lord physician, he would be lucky to be standing on his own by the time Owen emerged from the artificial womb. And, the process would not be effortless or without pain.

When the healer finally left for the night, the Captain did his best to remain cheerful for his bond mates' sake, but he hurt on so many levels. He might be paralyzed from the waist down, but the drugs necessary to shrink the swelling of his spinal cord intermittently shot intense, white hot needles of pain up his spine to settle in his neck and head. And, the reality of Ianto's death and the Hub's destruction was finally sinking in.

He should have tried harder with Ianto. He'd loved the scarred Welshman, and hoped the young man had found some sort of contentment in the months prior to his death. But, he hadn't tried at all, too caught up in his own problems, and that would be a regret he carried to his grave.

Gray would be another. The explosion had completely incinerated everything in the Hub, including the vaults. He couldn't pretend anymore that he might have found something to make his brother better. Even though he'd sealed him away in the first place, it was difficult not to grieve over the wasted potential.

Another jab of agony jolted up his spine. This time it was impossible to ignore, and his mouth tightened into a grimace.

"I'm sorry."

Melissa sat on his right, holding his hand. Suddenly, the pain was gone, and he smiled in appreciation.

"Don't tire yourself out, Sweetheart."

"Jack, nothing you can throw my way could possibly tire me out."

Hell, she was sexy, and obviously the newly crowned queen of double entendre. The more he studied her new body, the more he appreciated it. She was so self-assured, so expressive, like she had exactly what she desired and wanted the galaxy to know it.

He caught the Doctor's eye. They really needed to have a private talk soon to compare notes. He had a feeling that life had gotten much more interesting, and no doubt complicated.

It wasn't long before the Doctor decided he no longer wanted to be the odd man out. Hesitantly, he took Jack's hand; he knew it would be well within their rights to exclude him after he had run from them both. He was relieved and humbled when they accepted him without reservation.

Walking into a speakeasy straight out of the 1920's, he immediately noticed that Louis Armstrong played on stage, although the music was strangely muted. Jack and Melissa sat at a small table filled with glasses of various shapes and designs. Jack looked to be drinking shots of straight whiskey, while Melissa had an array of half empty drinks in front of her. In her hand was vibrant red concoction, contained in a very distinctive glass.

"You know the Hurricane wasn't invented until World War II."

Provocatively, she popped a maraschino cherry into her mouth and began to play with the stem. "Please don't interrupt the wake with trivial details, Sweetie. This is my mind, and if I want to recall a Hurricane, I will."

Thinking a chair into existence, he sat between them. "Is that what this is? A wake?"

"Hell, yeah, Doc. No better way to remember those we loved than getting rip roaring drunk."

He raised his eyebrows, demanding an explanation. "Em, how is Jack drunk?"

For the first time, she looked defensive. "I might be stimulating certain areas of his brain to relax his muscles. It helps with the pain."

"I'm sure it does," he replied archly.

"Well, I didn't see you coming up with a better plan."

Ouch. Definitely defensive. He quickly changed the topic, thinking a glass of red wine into existence. "To new beginnings."

Jack mentally choked on his whiskey, spewing it in all directions. "Damn if you don't know how to make an entrance, Doc."

He quickly picked up a full shot glass, slinging it back and draining it with a satisfied sigh. "New beginnings. To our wife, who has turned into a veritable goddess of sex. Too bad I can't appreciate it yet. And to our daughter, Hope. You know, it's almost cliché that you two produced a Time Lord messiah, but it's all in the genes, right?"

Sloppily, he downed another shot. "Doesn't matter, though; she's perfect. The Doc and I are going to have to beat her admirers away with a stick. To Owen, who seems to be missing out while he swims around in that womb. I think he's going to grow up under a very big shadow. Believe me; I know how hard it is for a human to compete with a Time Lord."

It was painful for the Doctor and Melissa to watch Jack turn bitter, but he needed to vent, and his lowered inhibitions were the perfect excuse. Again, he slammed back a virtual shot of whiskey, turning his attention once more to his wife.

"How long are you going to stay with us, Sweetheart? If you miss a predestination paradox, does reality collapse? You know, I've always wanted to see what Reapers look like."

"We don't know I'm River Song." She was tenacious in her conviction, but neither man believed her.

"Now you're just deluding yourself. And, you don't look like that sort of gal."

Finally, his barb stung enough that she couldn't ignore it. Gazing intently into his eyes, she stopped interfering with his neural receptors. She wanted him to be stone cold sober for what she was about to say.

The scene changed, and they were all nervously standing in the valley of Mt. Endeavor, the red grass rippling at their feet. The Doctor and Jack had never seen her more earnest.

"Listen to me, both of you. I will live to see my children as adults. I will not die today or the next, and I do not wish to hear about my supposed death in the Library ever again. It is not a topic of discussion I will tolerate. Are we clear?"

Reluctantly, they both agreed.

"Excellent."

And just like that, her mood changed again. Decisively, she grabbed their hands, softening her tone to one of humble sincerity. "Thank you, for everything. The Bad Wolf might have been careless, but Hope and Owen are treasures, and I would do it all again."

Then, she focused entirely on Jack. "You won't merely walk, Jack Harkness. You will run. The Doctor and I aren't going to accept anything less. And, I will be by your side, holding your hand, till death do us part."

Leaning in, she whispered in his ear. "I promise it will be yours, Jack. I won't let you go through the pain of losing me again."

He didn't have a chance to reply. She opened her soul to her bond mates, inviting them to do the same. Instantly, they surged together in joyous affirmation. At last, she blazed so brightly that it was impossible to acknowledge the idea of doubt or the possibility of sorrow, at least for the duration of their joining.

Hating to part, they found themselves once again in the solitude of their thoughts. Bent over Jack, Melissa played with his hair.

"The Doctor and I need to speak to Brax. I'm going to put you under deeply enough that you won't feel anything, and we'll be here when you wake. Is that okay with you?"

He reached up to stroke her cheek. She was so different and exactly the same. "Yeah, Sweetheart, I-"

"Don't apologize. I know, we both do. How could we not?"

She was right. They knew everything and still loved him. Taking comfort in that, he let her guide him to oblivion.

* * *

><p>Sitting in the luxurious presidential quarters, Melissa watched the Doctor entertain Hope on his lap. The baby was much too excited to sleep. Braxiatel, on the other hand, had been sleeping when they had arrived, but Flavia assured them that he would be with them shortly. When her friend left, Melissa wondered how close she had become to the newly elected president, but the Doctor quietly assured her that his brother had sworn off relationships for the time being.<p>

Just as she had become bored enough to start pacing, Brax entered the sitting room. She took one look and instantly decided not to hit him. He appeared frail enough that a stiff wind just might topple him over. Instead, she went straight to the kiss.

"You clever man. You might have warned us, though."

He hugged her tightly before sitting down next to his brother. "Well, it couldn't look entirely staged, now could it?"

"Was it?"

Making faces at his niece, he answered distractedly. "No, not completely. We might have taken advantage of the students a bit, but their display was most impressive in its own right. And, we couldn't have anticipated Hope's name, or how well the Arcadian played for the crowd."

"But you knew Amathow would be trouble."

"Doc, if you'd been thinking halfway clearly, you would have known as well."

Seeing Melissa's stony expression, Brax quickly changed the topic. "I love the new look, Emma. The Captain mentioned you're rather feisty, too. Positive you're not interested in returning to politics?"

She chuckled appreciatively before answering. "I don't think so, Brax. I have no desire to be roped into the presidency." Turning more serious, she asked, "How long do you think you'll serve?"

"Well, that's the nicest way to ask how long before I regenerate that I've heard in several days. I'm afraid I don't know. Romana had obviously researched her poisons very well. The sodium pentothol is proving to be most difficult to purge."

The Doctor didn't like the way his brother had avoided her eyes while answering. "But they will be able to purge it, correct?"

"Yes, Doc." He sighed. "They tell me six more weeks. Since regeneration ends my term, I had hoped it would only be a matter of days. I might have to do some actual work, and we all know how much I hate that."

His bland facade didn't fool either one of them. Melissa was especially troubled at his obvious exhaustion. "Can't Flavia act in your stead? She's done it before."

"It must be me. I plan to lift martial law and call for open elections. I can't be seen as a weak president, or the hardliners will use that as an excuse cling to the old ways. It's time to return to what the Doctor started."

His brother groaned, and Hope giggled at the sound. "If nominated I will not run, if elected I will not serve."

"Nice try, Doc, but it won't work. The only recourse you have is to be off planet at the time of the election. Better make that both of you. Emma's more popular than you are at the moment."

"Oh, I can promise you we'll be absent. I thought Castellan was bad enough. I am not going to allow myself to be elected President. Besides, we need to return to Earth. We have to help our friends, not to mention reassure the world that Jack and the Doctor weren't killed."

"Will the Captain have recovered enough to allow that?"

"Yes," she responded decidedly, and Brax decided she wasn't the type to take no for an answer this time around.

She and the Doctor cut their visit short when the newly elected president nodded off mid sentence. Returning to the infirmary, they put Hope down to sleep in her cot before resuming their vigil. When Jack finally woke, they were by his side, just as she'd promised.

* * *

><p>"Dada."<p>

Peering down at her daughter from the bed, Melissa couldn't hold back a proud smile. "Mama. Maaa . . . maaa. Come on, Sweetie; I know you can do it."

"Dada."

Sitting on the floor, the Doctor beamed as Hope did her best to roll to him. "Face it, Em; she's Daddies' girl. Bound to be since you're outnumbered two to one."

If Hope hadn't been so near, she would have thrown the pillow at him. "Doctor, you can't explain her affection with a ratio. Babies naturally make that sound first, and in most cultures, women are smart enough to tell the fathers that the child is calling for them. And, it is unabashed arrogance on your part to assume our daughter prefers you and Jack to me."

His grin widened, and he masked the reason for his amusement by scooping up their little girl. His bond mate was so easy to wind up these days. And, she was extremely sexy when she lectured him so earnestly. He knew not to mention it, however. There were times when she could be as prickly as a cactus, and it looked like today might be one of those days.

He couldn't blame her, though. The healers would be taking Owen out of the womb that evening. They were about to become new parents all over again. Her anxiety was completely understandable.

So, instead of teasing her, he gently placed Hope in her arms. "She's hungry—again. I don't remember Athena eating this much."

She explained with exaggerated patience. "Of course you don't, Sweetie. You were already in pilot training when Athena was born. You missed all the tedious parts, remember?"

Rubbing the back of his neck, he sheepishly admitted, "I think you might be right. I did miss quite a lot of the changing and feeding, didn't I?

"Almost every single one. You had a knack for walking in soon after I'd changed her. For a while, I wondered if Brax had the house under surveillance."

"I plead guilty to all charges which do not incriminate my brother. I don't think his position at the CIA allowed for domestic surveillance at that time. Not that I didn't suspect him occasionally myself."

He was interrupted by a soft knock on the door.

"It's open."

Brax walked in, wearing the ornate robes of the presidency. Playfully, he wagged a finger at his brother. "It's not supposed to be open, little Bro. I know you'd like to think that all Time Lords are as noble as you, but there is crime, even in the heart of the Citadel."

"More likely there's crime only in the Citadel," Melissa replied darkly. "I certainly never locked the doors at home."

Brax unexpectedly turned testy. "And how many do you employ on your household staff? I doubt you ever had to worry about security with so many loyal subjects milling about."

She gave him such a severe look that he was instantly contrite. "Sorry, I just finished meeting with Amathow. He had the nerve to insinuate that something might happen to someone close to me if I continued to abolish the remnants of martial law. Unfortunately, he was vague enough that his warning could be taken as nothing more than concern."

The Doctor attempted to allay his brother's apprehension. "He was obviously bluffing. Besides, even if he wasn't, there are very few people close to you."

Brax looked to the ceiling in annoyance before replying. "Doc, are you trying to insult me or make me feel better?"

Bemused, he looked at Melissa for an explanation. "You implied that he was a lonely old man, Sweetie."

"I am by no means old!"

"You're five years older than he," Melissa helpfully pointed out.

"Which means I'm just hitting my prime!"

Looking down at Hope, she hid a smirk. His outrage was the perfect opportunity. "Then, if you don't want to become a lonely old man, perhaps you should invite Flavia to share your bed. She's had feelings for you for years."

He argued automatically, hardly listening to what she had said. "Emma, how many times have I told you that I . . . . Wait a moment. Did you say **Flavia** has feelings for me? Surely you're mistaken? We've been friends for years, but . . . ."

He couldn't finish the thought. The idea was preposterous. She'd never said anything, not once in all the years they'd been friends. However, he had to admit that the idea had some appeal.

"Are you certain?"

Melissa watched Brax's expression change from outright denial to wistful hope in the space of a second. This time, she smiled openly. "Of course. Although, maybe you'd like to find out for yourself."

He wasn't quite ready to commit to that, however. "Perhaps. It bears further thought, anyway."

Somewhat flustered, he beat a hasty retreat. "I just came to warn you of Amathow's threat and the need for continued vigilance. The full Council convenes soon, and I should prepare. I look forward to meeting Owen this evening."

After bidding Brax goodbye, the Doctor turned to Melissa. "Please tell me that Flavia has feelings for my brother."

She gazed at him with tolerantly. "Of course she does, Beloved. She simply hasn't realized it yet."

He gaped at her audacity as she calmly nursed their daughter. "You're playing matchmaker now, Em?"

"Why not? Don't you wish him to be happy?"

"Well, yes, but-"

"And, shouldn't Flavia be happy?"

"Yes, of course, but-"

"Then, I don't see why you're worried. Now, didn't you promise Jack you'd attend his therapy session?"

"Yes, yes, I did."

His face lit up with a goofy grin. It was so refreshing to watch her boss him around. She thought she had them both wrapped around her finger, which was more or less the truth. He and Jack were so happy to have her alive that they'd do almost anything to please her.

Kissing her goodbye, he left their rooms with a spring in his step. As he walked the corridors, he briefly considered warning his brother that he was being manipulated, but he decided turnabout was fair play. Besides, if it worked out, then it would be for Brax's own good.

* * *

><p>Jack had already started therapy by the time he reached the infirmary wing. The Captain's progress was nothing short of miraculous. With the advanced stem cell therapy, he was already walking, even if his gait was unsteady enough to necessitate the use of forearm crutches.<p>

Unfortunately, the consequences of such a debilitating injury went far beyond his gross motor skills. His clothes hung loosely off his frame, and his usually sunny disposition had been replaced by a somber stoicism. The only time he seemed to smile now was when he held Hope.

Standing unseen in the doorway, the Doctor watched as Jack arduously took ten steps. His movement was painfully slow and deliberate. But, a rare, delighted grin shone on his face as he managed to complete his task without falling.

However, the Time Lord felt his eyes welling up with tears as Jack wobbled and then fell heavily to the ground when he attempted to take a few steps without the aid of the crutches. His left leg was still very weak, and occasionally gave out mid step. Hastily wiping them away, he offered his hand to his bond mate.

"Looks to me like you're going to give Emma a welcome and unexpected surprise."

Ignoring the healers in the room, Jack let the Doctor assist him up. "Maybe. I'm still dependent on the crutches."

"Well, since she's been too busy with Hope to do much more than see you stand, I think she'll be elated. How's the pain today?"

"Negligible."

Handing him the crutches, he beamed. "Brilliant! Think you're up for a challenge?"

The Captain studied him, suddenly unsure. "What sort of challenge?"

Impishly, the Doctor cupped Jack's buttocks, careful not to upset his balance. "The very best kind. If we take it very slowly, think you might manage some dancing?"

He could sense Jack's instant arousal, could almost taste the overwhelming citrusy scent of his pheromones. But, it was his ecstatic smile that gave the Doctor his answer.

"Hell, yes, Doc! I can't tell you how much I've missed dancing."

The healer closest to them, a stern woman not known for her sense of humor, thankfully did not fully understand the conversation. However, that didn't stop her from giving her opinion.

"Lord Doctor, there is no reason to restrict Captain Harkness from dancing. His spinal column is sound and movement will not aggravate his condition. However, considering his continued lack of coordination and intermittent muscle weakness, perhaps if you and the Emissary wish to dance, he could simply watch."

The Doctor erupted with inappropriate laughter, causing the healer to leave in a tiff. Once they had some semblance of privacy, he glanced at Jack. The frown had reappeared on his face.

"We don't have to do anything you're not ready for, you know. I wanted to surprise Emma before the healers delivered Owen, but we can certainly wait."

For once, he faked confidence well enough to fool the Time Lord. "Nah, I think it's a fantastic idea. You're right; once Owen's out of the womb, we're going to be twice as busy. Besides, I think it's time to return to Earth, don't you?"

"We thought you might want to wait until you're walking better."

The smile he'd plastered on his face slipped. "That's going to be a while. And, the longer we stay here, the harder it'll be to go back. It's already been a month."

The Doctor knew that only too well. He hated the thought of having to acknowledge Alistair's death by attending his funeral. It would be so much easier to stay on Gallifrey, where he could at least pretend that there was a chance of another meeting. It must be just as difficult for Jack as he mourned both Ianto and Torchwood itself.

"You're right; we'll return tomorrow. I need to inform my brother. Why don't you get cleaned up, and I'll let you know when Hope's sleeping."

"Better make it before then, Doc. I refuse to use that chair again, and it's going to take me a while to walk that far."

Pulling the Vortex Manipulator out of his pocket, he carefully strapped it to Jack's wrist. The Time Lord briefly wished all of their problems were so easily solved. "Teleportation within the Citadel is illegal, for obvious reasons. Too bad I've never been one for the rules."

This time, Jack's smile was more genuine. "Thanks, Doc. I've felt naked without this thing."

"Now, Captain, I would have thought that would be a good feeling for you."

He smiled appreciatively at the joke even as he swallowed against the lump that had formed in his throat. He had felt naked without his wrist strap—and not in a good way. Now, at least, he had his favorite tool and sometimes escape route back.

Jovially telling the Doctor he'd see him soon, Jack kept the smile on his face until his bond mate was out of sight. The frown reappeared immediately afterwards. As he laboriously returned to his room, he tried not to be too anxious. It wasn't like the Doctor had challenged him to climb Mt. Endeavor. So, why did the thought of having sex with his partners suddenly leave him shaking? By the time he had made it into the shower, he reluctantly acknowledged his fear. He, Jack Harkness, inexplicably suffered from performance anxiety. Hell, why did everything have to be so damn complicated?

* * *

><p>"Tell me again why I'm playing dress-up, Beloved?"<p>

The Doctor watched Melissa search through racks of some very elegant dresses in the wardrobe room of his TARDIS, doing his best to sound nonchalant. "You're the one who can't settle on a look, Em. I don't think I've seen you in the same thing twice."

"I think variety is my trademark this time." Pulling out a sleeveless blue gown that was both elegant and simple, she decided to let her bond mate have his secret. She would figure it out soon enough. Quickly she shimmied into the long dress before searching for a pair of navy heels that would complete the look.

"What do you think?"

"I think I like variety," he finally managed to say as he stared at her in frank approval. The amount of cleavage the dress revealed as really quite extraordinary, and the thin, silky fabric clung to her in the most alluring manner.

"Doctor, you're staring at my breasts."

"Yes," he agreed in a dreamy, far away voice before snapping back to reality. His embarrassed expression told her all she needed to know. "Well, you have to admit that they are truly a delight to behold."

Her hips swayed provocatively as she gracefully crossed the room to stand in front of him. In her heels, they were standing eye to eye, and the intensity of her gaze made him harden in lustful anticipation. Moreover, her throaty response sent a shiver down his spine.

"Oh, Doctor, they're good for so much more than mere admiration."

He took a hasty step backwards in obvious retreat, his cheeks flushed. "Quite. I mean, of course they are. Er . . . that is, I'll be right back."

Racing out of the wardrobe room, he paced around his bedroom as he phoned Jack. Extremely agitated, he got straight to the point. "Captain, I hope you've had enough time to shower because quite frankly, if you don't get here soon, I can't be held responsible for my actions."

Jack appeared in front of him not a minute later, and the Doctor steadied him until he could regain his balance. The Captain had obviously taken some time on his appearance. He'd even managed to find an exact copy of his greatcoat. The Time Lord briefly wondered how much flirting he'd had to do to convince one of the local tailors to run his ruined one through the fabricator. For the first time, he wore some sort of cologne, which subtly enhanced the citrusy smell of his pheromones. Unfortunately, no amount of primping could erase the gauntness of his frame.

The Doctor didn't care. He captured the Captain's mouth with his own, his joy leading him to a passionate fury. Only Melissa's appearance put an end to their embrace.

"Decided to start the fun without me?"

Seeing the breathtaking beauty that was his wife, Jack smiled nervously, taking a hesitant step forward and then another. She watched his slow march towards her with growing awe and not a few tears. It didn't matter that he was using crutches; he was walking. By the Other, he was walking.

"Hello, Sweetheart." Leaning on his crutches, he kissed her tenderly on the lips, tentatively thrusting his tongue into her mouth as her lips parted in longing. His worry was for naught. By the time he ended the kiss, she was practically moaning in frustration.

"You should have told me you were walking."

"I thought it'd be better to show you."

"For once you were right. I can't believe it! You've made so much progress." Turning her head, she asked, "Doctor is this the surprise you've so obviously been trying to hide? Because if it is, then I definitely didn't need to change. Although, I must say, it's a very nice surprise."

Joining his bond mates, he wrapped his arms around their waists. "Actually, we thought you might appreciate being seduced before Hope wakes up hungry yet again and Owen comes out of the womb."

For the first time since her regeneration, they had managed to stun her, but she recovered quickly. "I like the sound of that. But shouldn't I have taken off my clothes instead of finding new ones?"

Deliberately, Jack rubbed his thumbs over the silky fabric. "I believe the Doctor mentioned the word seduction. Having you naked would definitely ruin those plans, Melissa. Now, hold on tight."

Before she could protest that it wasn't necessary to seduce her at all, Jack activated his teleport. The Doctor managed to keep him upright on landing, and for once, she didn't suffer any dizziness from the jump. In fact, she was the steadiest one of them all.

They landed near the pavilion, and her mouth dropped open in astonishment. It had been restored to its former glory, right down to the tiniest piece of stained glass. The table under its peaked roof overflowed with chocolates and ripe fruits and several varieties of wine. But the most fascinating sight was the very large, very comfortable looking bed encased in mosquito netting that sat not three feet away.

The sun hadn't completely burned off the morning fog, which muffled the roar of the waterfall and encased everything in a soft, misty glow. If she strained to listen, she could hear chamber music being piped into the gazebo, a string quartet playing Mozart.

"You two may seduce me like this whenever you want. Love the bed, by the way."

"So do we," the Doctor assured her as he kissed the back of her neck. She felt a shiver of anticipation. She was so ready to skip the preliminaries; seduction was going to be torture.

Melissa and the Doctor eventually helped Jack to the table. The three had found themselves pausing after every few steps, their desire to reaffirm a physical relationship that had been somewhat lacking in the latter months of Melissa's pregnancy almost overpowering. At last, they were seated at table, the two men pressed as close to her as physics would allow.

"A girl could get very used to this, you know."

"I hope so," the Doctor answered, then held a strawberry in front of her mouth, inviting her to taste.

"Good?"

"Very."

Jack tried next, dipping another juicy strawberry in a pot of warm, gooey chocolate.

"Better?"

"Mmm. Anything's better with chocolate."

"Doc, I think that's a challenge we can't ignore."

"Quite right."

In the end, all three agreed that everything was, indeed, better with chocolate.

* * *

><p>Snuggled against Melissa under the mosquito netting of the outdoor bed, the Doctor and Jack lazily explored the contours of her new body, sending goose pimples down her flesh. Involuntarily, she shivered.<p>

"Cold?"

"I don't think I'll be cold ever again. I feel wonderful."

She quickly reassured the Doctor, for once tolerant of his over protectiveness. She remembered their fear as he and Jack had helplessly watched her weaken throughout her pregnancy. Little wonder they worried.

"Wonderful doesn't begin to describe you," Jack responded with complete sincerity. "I never imagined that regeneration could make you so . . . ."

As he struggled for the right word, the Doctor was happy to suggest a few. "Cheeky? Impulsive? Sexy?"

"Perfect," Jack finished reverently, temporarily ignoring the Doctor. A single tear ran down her face. Wiping it way, he tenderly caressed her cheek.

"I love you so much, Sweetheart."

"Oh, you beautiful man. My Jack. I've always loved you, even when, even when . . . ." Her brow wrinkled in confusion. She'd been about to say something. It had been on the tip of her tongue, but it eluded her.

Shrugging it off, she smiled confidently. "Well, there's never been a time when I haven't loved you, actually. You certainly managed to sweep me off my feet."

Grinning, he threaded his fingers through her hair. "That definitely ranks as the best thing I've ever done. Although I've got to tell you, Melissa, for all your protests, you seemed awfully eager."

Her smile changed into a playful smirk. "Maybe I was, and maybe you're just fishing for a compliment."

Before Jack could think of a suitable reply, the Doctor piped up. "Jack needing a compliment? Nah, it was obvious to anyone with half a brain that you were very interested very quickly, Em."

"I find that most men only have half a brain," she replied teasingly.

"Now you're just being insulting, which means I must have been right. Admit it, even as a human, you were attracted to Jack from the moment you saw him."

"Doctor, must we have this discussion now? Of course I was attracted to Jack. A person would have to be dead not to be." In a flash, she knew how to use the conversation to her advantage. "What I want to know is when you were first attracted to him. And I mean sexually. I don't want some ambiguous answer about character or ideals."

Jack had been content to listen to their lighthearted bickering, especially since it pertained to him, but she'd definitely piqued his curiosity. "Yeah, I think I'd like to know that, too, Doc."

Caught, the Doctor blushed, nervously running his fingers through his hair. "Well . . . erm . . . you see . . . . Jack, do you have any idea just how incredibly hot you looked riding that damn bomb?"

As both his partners erupted into a fits of laughter, he sat up, looking at them askance. "What? It's true! You should have seen him, Em. All cocky and confident as he straddled an exaggerated phallic symbol that was minutes from exploding. How could anyone not be aroused?"

"Oh, I believe you, Doctor. I'm just wondering if Jack had seen _Dr. Strangelove_."

"Not until much later," he assured her with a grin. "Although, I didn't need a movie to give me the idea. If anything, I thought the imagery would be glaringly obvious."

"To you and me, maybe," the Doctor remarked with a self-deprecating chuckle. "I have to tell you that Rose had no idea. It didn't occur to her that her handsome hero would make such a statement in the middle of the Blitz. Poor girl thought she had to persuade me to save you when all I could think about was the image of you sitting on that bomb. I was so distracted that it took me thirty seconds longer to input the equations to find your ship."

"Well, you certainly didn't let it show. I thought I was going to be vented through the air hatch that first night."

"Blame that on Adam," he answered dismissively. "Rose picked up a stray who turned out to be a very bad choice of travelling companion. He ended up with an information terminal carved into his brain before I could dump him back home. Worse, he jeopardized her safety without a qualm. He's lucky I didn't leave him on Satellite Five."

They both knew how protective he'd been of Rose at that time, and didn't ask for any additional explanation. They joked about sexual imagery in films for a few more minutes before the Doctor lay down beside her once again. Soon, it was obvious to both of them that Jack had fallen asleep.

Nuzzled against his shoulder, she didn't say anything for a while, content simply to lie between the men she loved. After a while, she turned to the Doctor, smoothing his hair before kissing him tenderly.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For planning this. It was exactly what we needed. It's been so difficult, watching him—"

He covered her mouth with his, refusing to hear it said out loud. He knew from painful experience how difficult it had been to watch Jack slowly lose that spark of optimism that had always defined him.

"Well," he replied, drawing out the word into several smug syllables. "To give credit where credit is due, I believe it was you who taught me that sex can be a cure all."

"Doctor?"

"Yes, Em?"

"I hate you."

He couldn't help but grin.


	29. Tact and Gratitude

Author's Notes - Takes place where the last chapter left off. Yes, it's mostly domestic, but I wanted readers to have a chance to take a breath and accept that Melissa now bears a striking resemblance to River Song before the next twist, which is the one that the entire story revolves around. Hope you enjoy. Thanks to **dwatlaskrhtcm** for reviewing the last chapter.

* * *

><p>Jack woke up in the TARDIS with no idea how he had gotten there—which was somewhat strange, since he decidedly remembered that they hadn't bothered to drink the wine. Not that they'd needed it. Hell, they had all been so eager, they hadn't really needed the chocolate, but he'd savor those images of the Doctor and Melissa for a very long time.<p>

Thinking of his bond mates put a happy grin on his face, and it was easy to ignore the aches and stiffness that had accompanied such a strenuous activity. Lying on the bed, he realized it was the same one that had been near the pavilion, and decided that the Doctor must have materialized the ship around it.

Idly, he studied the room. It was larger than the Doctor's bedroom, but it had a cozy, comfortable feel. The walls were a deep, rich mocha, and the decor was accented in TARDIS blue, which was most likely a subtle hint from the ship herself. Sometimes, she liked to remind them who was actually in charge.

He'd have to find a proper way to thank her for such a thoughtful gift. The room was obviously meant for them. In addition to the spacious bed, there were three oversized chairs nestled around two reading lamps and a library table. Two of the three doors were open; from what he could see, one led to a massive bathroom suite and the other to a nursery complete with cheery yellow paint.

The identity of the nursery was confirmed when he heard Hope's cries coming from within. Painstakingly, he got out of bed to check on her. Relying on his crutches, he walked haltingly towards his daughter's demanding wail.

Melissa beat him to her, but not by much. She'd appeared from the bathroom with an apologetic expression on her face.

"Sorry, the TARDIS has made our closet the wardrobe room, and I think I got a bit carried away."

Scooping the wailing child from her cot, she sank down onto one of the two rocking chairs in the room. "Alright, alright, my love, I know you're hungry. You don't have to be quite so insistent."

Easing himself into the chair next to her, Jack kept her company as she tended to the baby. He liked her most recent choice of clothing. She wore brown pants and a burnt orange blouse that managed not to clash with her hair, which was pulled back with a simple, brown comb. Her brown suede boots were much more stylish than the combat boots she'd worn in her previous regeneration, although they looked to be sturdy enough for running.

Gallantly, he offered to change Hope once she had finished feeding, and Melissa agreed with alacrity. Bracing himself against the changing table, he had the baby babbling happily in no time.

It was inevitable, really, that Hope finally said, "Mama," while Melissa was bent over the dresser looking for a clean outfit for her to wear to her brother's birth. Jack's grin brightened the entire room as his wife rushed to his side to encourage their daughter to say it again. Predictably, she wouldn't, although she was more than happy to say "Dada" repeatedly.

"She's doing it on purpose," Melissa complained as she quickly changed her into a pleated, pastel polka dot dress and then placed her on the floor. Hope took the opportunity to roll under the cot, laughing all the while.

"Well, I told you she was going to be a handful."

Jack's words were belied by his pleased smile and indulgent tone. He was smitten with their little girl, and couldn't have loved her any more if she had been his own. From the way the Doctor had been carrying on about Owen's second birth, the Captain knew that the Time Lord felt the same. In spite of all the terrible things that had happened as a result, the Bad Wolf had gotten one thing right. She'd made them a cohesive family, and he knew the next few years would be fantastic.

"Jack?"

He started. Melissa stood in front of him with a worried expression on her face, Hope in her arms. "Sorry, I was thinking."

Jumping to the wrong conclusion, she hastened to reassure him. "Owen's going to be fine. The process of removing him from the artificial womb isn't nearly as traumatic as birth."

"I know. Actually, I was thinking about the future. This is definitely the one adventure the Doc and I never thought we'd have. It's fantastic, Sweetheart."

Remembering the trials of caring for Susan and Matthew as infants, she couldn't help but joke. "Remind me of that after a few months of nighttime feedings. The twins were colicky, and Mark was always gone, and at one point I thought I was going to lose my sanity."

Mentioning Susan and Matthew, however, quickly turned her wistful. "I wonder if Susan would have accepted my pregnancy this time."

They would never know, but Jack did his best to comfort her. "She matured so much during that last year. I'm sure she and Matthew would have been thrilled."

She pretended she hadn't heard. It was still too painful to discuss at times. Instead, she donned a forced cheerfulness. "We had better get going. We shouldn't be late for our son's birth."

Understanding her reaction, he didn't press. Instead, he struggled to his feet. Walking had not yet become better with practice, and it was a slow journey to the infirmary. Melissa stayed by his side the entire time, trying in vain to get Hope to repeat her earlier utterance of 'Mama'.

The Doctor met them at the birthing room. Practically bouncing with eagerness, he took their daughter from his wife's arms, entertaining the infant with a complicated explanation of the mechanics involved in the sustainment of artificial wombs. She shrieked in delight at the sound of his voice.

By taking Hope, he allowed Melissa and Jack to fully experience the joy of their son's emergence into the wide world. While the actual process was anticlimactic compared to his birth, their joy at holding him for the first time was no less profound.

"Oh, Jack, he's beautiful."

Owen Alistair Harkness had deep blue eyes that held the possibility of turning brown. His dark hair was silky, barely covering his head, and his chubby little face was scrunched up as he protested against his abrupt departure from a safe and secure environment.

He quieted quickly at the soothing sound of familiar voices, and Melissa held him close for several minutes before allowing the healers to take measurements and perform a variety of routine tests. Once they were satisfied that nothing was amiss, the now complete family was allowed to take him home, or in this case, back to the TARDIS.

Jack sat with him for a long while that first evening, counting his fingers and toes and feeling the reassuring beat of his single heart. There'd been no public fanfare surrounding his homecoming, no solemn ceremony to mark his name, but it didn't matter. Owen was healthy, and Jack gave thanks for small, impossible miracles.

* * *

><p>"Your son is loud."<p>

Opening his eyes, the Captain regarded the Doctor's brother blearily. "And, I see rudeness runs in the family." Then, he flashed him a tired grin as he straightened in the recliner. "How are you doing, Brax?"

"I have to admit that I have been better."

Taking a seat next to his bond brother, the High Lord President of all Gallifrey handed him a blue gift bag stuffed with gold tissue paper. Regarding it suspiciously, Jack reached his hand in to pluck out a small plush bear wearing a light blue shirt emblazoned with the letters UCLA stitched in gold. Amused, he reached in again to pull out several white cotton infant bodysuits adorned with the same logo. Digging in the bag a final time, he found a set of matching baby booties.

"Well, I'll say one thing; when you go native, you do it like a pro. Why UCLA?"

"I attended medical school there. At least, I did on the parallel Earth. I thought you might appreciate having a traditional Earth gift for your son."

"Thanks," he replied, and meant it. It was a nice gesture, even if he'd never seen a UCLA Bruin.

"It's just a trifling, but you're welcome nonetheless. I hope you don't mind me waking you. Emma said you'd only fallen asleep an hour ago, but the Doc informs me that you are all soon returning to Earth. I won't have time to visit until my term of president is over."

Jack read between the lines and understood that Brax wanted to say goodbye before he regenerated. "I wish we could stay longer, but our friends need us."

"There is no need to make excuses, Captain. I certainly understand. Besides, it would be best if the Doctor and the Emissary leave Gallifrey for the next few weeks. Both are quite stubbornly refusing to run for president, but if they're present, I can't prevent the majority from drafting one of them for the job."

"And we certainly don't want that."

"Indeed."

Jack thought that Brax would immediately leave, but the president continued to sit in the chair, appearing like a man who had something to say but didn't know how to say it. Since that was entirely out of character for someone who'd spent his life managing the Celestial Intervention Agency and manipulating politicians, Jack almost dismissed the idea as sleep-deprived paranoia. When the Time Lord finally spoke, however, he knew he'd been right.

"My brother refused protection, as did my bond sister. However, I would like to make the offer to you as well."

The Captain carefully considered his answer. Like the baby gift, he knew it to be a nice gesture. Unfortunately, it was also an extremely arrogant one. Yet, he had to admit it had a certain appeal.

"Thanks, but no thanks. Unless you've heard of a specific threat?"

"Nothing specific, no." Guessing he might have insulted the proud man, Brax immediately explained his reasoning. "I'm well aware that the three of you are more than capable of defending yourselves. But, Earth is such an unpredictable planet. And, I worry about the safety of Hope and Owen."

That revelation put everything in an entirely different light. "This is about Amathow, isn't it?"

"Perhaps," he grudgingly conceded. "Although, his range is somewhat limited. He is currently restricted to the Citadel. If he were the only threat, you would all be safer on Earth."

"Okay, Brax, cut to the chase. Are you trying to scare me into accepting a few bodyguards or do you know something you're not telling me?"

"I don't know anything. And, that's the difficulty. In the last three weeks, two operatives have failed to return from routine surveillance assignments. I have sent an inquiry to the Shadow Proclamation, but they are little inclined to hasten to our aid after Emma humiliated the Shadow Architect on a live vidstream transmission."

That was troubling news, but it wasn't enough to go against his bond mates wishes. "Thanks for the heads up, but I've got to say the answer's still no. If you hear of a specific threat, I'd like to hear about it, though."

"That goes without saying, Captain."

Bidding the Doctor's brother goodbye, Jack reflected that it didn't go without saying at all. While he was glad that Brax had mellowed considerably, he was still somewhat wary of the man's arrogance. The Time Lord truly believed he knew best, which meant he was often loath to share information, even with those closest to him. And one day that habit might just get them all in trouble. With those disquieting thoughts, it took him a while to get back to sleep.

* * *

><p>"Ready, Captain?"<p>

"Not really, no."

He didn't know why that had popped out of his mouth. He should be ready to return to his adopted planet, but he truly wasn't. There were too many unpleasant reminders of his failure as a leader, lover, brother and friend. From the look on the Doc's face, he understood completely.

Melissa briefly hugged him before practically pushing him into the jump seat. Wanting to help the Doctor pilot the ship, she let Jack hold the pram. Hope and Owen were both sleeping, which would no doubt prove to be a rare occurrence. It was the perfect time to return to Earth. Well, as perfect as anytime considering what they were about to face.

"Shouldn't we strap them in?"

He joked wearily. For once Jack could appreciate the Doctor's long history of running. He wasn't sure of Gwen's reaction. She was the only one left from the Torchwood he had tried to mold with his own hands, and in the deep recesses of his mind, he worried that she would blame him for Ianto's death.

"You don't really think my ship would give the children a bumpy ride, do you, Jack? She's thrilled to have so many hearts beating inside her."

"Guess not. Hadn't really thought about it like that."

Melissa added her reassurance to the Doctor's. "The TARDIS knows she needs to be gentle." Then, her mouth curved upwards. "Besides, I'll make sure the Doctor doesn't keep the parking brake on."

"Em, for the last time, a type 40 TARDIS does not come equipped with a parking brake!"

This time, she hid her smirk. Instead, she answered patronizingly with a hint of disbelief. "Of course it doesn't, Beloved."

The ride through the Vortex was the smoothest that Jack had ever experienced. Even the noise of the time rotor seemed to be more harmonious. As soon as they landed, however, there was a loud knock on the door.

For once, the Doctor didn't dash across the room to see who was waiting for them. Carefully, he studied the outside video display. Then, he stroked the console, expressing his gratitude as a tender caress. "You never cease to amaze me, Old Girl. I'm sure you've put us here for a reason, but you couldn't have picked a better choice."

"Where are we?" Melissa demanded as she helped Jack stand. She wasn't sure either one of them could yet stomach seeing the remains of the Hub.

"We're in Sarah's attic."

Ealing, not Cardiff. Stifling an impulse to kiss one of the coral struts, she let the Doctor go ahead with the pram. He could answer some of the more obvious questions while she accompanied Jack out of the ship.

By the time she and Jack appeared, Sarah Jane held Owen and Luke held Hope; both had unfortunately woken at the sound of Mr. Smith announcing their arrival. Melissa wasn't sure if Sarah Jane or Luke looked more awkward, and had to stifle a grin as her friend swiftly handed Owen back to the Doctor in order to envelope Jack in a comforting hug.

"Oh, it's so good to see you, Jack. When the Doctor stole you from the hospital, we all feared the worst."

"Sorry, I think the Doc was a little panicked by that time, not that he didn't have reason."

"I can see that," she answered wryly, letting go of him to squeeze her friend briefly in a delighted hug. "You look wonderful, Melissa. Or do you prefer to be called the Emissary now that you've regenerated?"

"Definitely not that," she replied just a little bit too quickly. Seeing her friend's startled expression, she attempted to explain. "My full title is the Emissary of the Bad Wolf, and I'd rather not be reminded of it, if that's alright with you. I have to put up with it enough on Gallifrey."

Luke, who had seen his mother squeeze her friend's arm in understanding, felt he was missing something important. "What's the Bad Wolf?"

Sarah peered at her son, hoping to convey the sense that the topic was not one for open discussion, but he didn't quite understand her expression. When he continued to look bemused, Melissa herself answered.

"She's someone who helped the Doctor a while back, Luke. Unfortunately, she didn't always think before she acted, and she had almost limitless power."

"Like the Krillitanes if they had unlocked the Skasas Paradigm." Seeing Melissa's look of surprise, he hastily added, "Mum told me about meeting the Doctor at the school with all the Krillitanes posing as teachers."

"That's not a bad comparison, although the Bad Wolf's intentions were nobler."

Melissa added her agreement to the Doctor's, if only to forestall any more questions. While she might agree that the Bad Wolf's intentions were good, her methods had proven to be dangerous more than once. As quickly as she could, she changed the subject.

"Have you heard from Donna?"

Sarah Jane's expression clouded. "Not since Alistair's funeral. Wilf's been ill, and I know she's spent most of her time in Chiswick helping her mother."

"Alistair's funeral?" Jack immediately glared at the Doctor in accusation. "Just how off from three days are we, Doc?"

He steeled himself to give the unwelcome news that he had so recently learned from Sarah Jane. "It's been three weeks, Jack."

"Three weeks?"

The color drained from his face so fast that Melissa threw her arms around him, fearful that he might faint. He didn't. But, she could feel his entire body trembling with hurt and anger. After a few seconds, he gently pushed her away, his emotions tightly in check.

"We've got to go back. You have to be at Alistair's funeral, Doc, and I need to . . . ."

He couldn't quite say it, so he dropped his gaze to the floor instead. Now that they were on Earth, it was too difficult to acknowledge the reality of Ianto's death. Three weeks—what would Gwen think? That he'd abandoned Torchwood and her again? Was there even a Torchwood left to abandon?

"We can't," the Time Lord answered quietly, his voice and demeanor suffused with regret. "I'm already there."

"We didn't even recognize you at first, did we, Mum? Mum guessed because she noticed the TARDIS nearby. And, when we asked you why you were alone, you said it was time to say some goodbyes."

An uncomfortable silence settled in the spacious attic as Sarah Jane Smith doubted that her son would ever understand the word tact. It was impolite to mention a subsequent regeneration to a Time Lord, and she had made it a point to tell Luke. Worse, it was heartbreaking to think that the Doctor would somehow end up alone yet again as he stood amidst his wonderful family.

Jack wasn't thick. He grasped the implications immediately. His anger melted as he and Melissa shared a long look. "I guess the TARDIS needed some extra time to give the kiddos a smooth ride."

Then, before the silence could stretch, he added, "We should pay our respects to Doris, though."

"Quite right. Sarah, do you think you could make the arrangements?"

"Of course, I've been meaning to call and see how she's getting on. Would you like to come downstairs and have a spot of lunch? Or were you planning on going back to Cardiff immediately? Martha and Mickey are still there, as is John Hart, although UNIT is handling anything to do with aliens."

"Hart? What's Hart got to do with anything?"

The Doctor had that deer caught in headlights look. To be perfectly honest, he had quite forgotten about John Hart and what the Bad Wolf had done to him during those anxious days when it was unclear whether either one of his bond mates would survive. He ran his fingers through his hair agitatedly before turning grim.

"Hart led me to Emma. The Bad Wolf had burned a set of temporal spatial coordinates in his mind so I could find her. But, that's not the worst of it. She also completely shredded his timelines until there were only two left, obedience or death. He was supposed to protect Torchwood from the danger the digilitum possessed, not warn us."

"Shit."

Apologetically, Jack glanced at Sarah Jane for the use of foul language in front of Luke, but the indomitable Ms. Smith didn't comment on his choice of vocabulary. Instead, she pragmatically reissued her lunch invitation.

"It's a problem that's not going away anytime soon. You might as well stay for lunch, and then visit the Nobles before travelling to Cardiff. By then, I might have reached Doris."

"Lunch it is," the Doctor replied easily.

Melissa warily eyed the stairs, wondering if it would be easier for everyone involved if they simply entered the TARDIS and materialized closer to the ground floor rather than the attic. From the stubborn expression on Jack's face, she highly doubted he'd appreciate the gesture. It was a good thing that the children were the perfect excuse.

"I can't imagine getting Hope and Owen and all the baby paraphernalia downstairs in one trip, Doctor. Do you think the TARDIS might be persuaded to move to the back garden?"

He thought that was a fine idea, and said so. He even managed to get Jack to agree with very little fuss. Five minutes later, they were exiting the TARDIS, which now sat atop what would have been a lovely flower bed. Luckily, there was very little growing in the middle of February, so the ship hadn't ruined much.

The trip to the dining room was still difficult for Jack, but at least it didn't involve a couple of flights of stairs. By the time they were seated for lunch, Owen wailed with hunger while Hope did her best to wiggle out of the Doctor's arms. The meal was more than a bit chaotic, but the babies gave the adults a welcome excuse to laugh and focus on the positive.

Luke was fascinated with Hope's rapid development, and spent almost an hour interrogating the Time Lords about their species growth and development. Jack sat there quietly, watching the exchange, wondering how Owen would compare at that age. He might not be an archetype, but there was no refuting the fact that his mother was positively brilliant. Besides, his upbringing would be far from normal. He could only hope that Owen would display the same earnest, polite curiosity as Luke. And, if he managed to charm all the girls-or even the boys-while doing so, then so much the better.

"Do humans mature more quickly in the fifty-first century, Captain Harkness?"

Drawn back into the conversation, Jack admitted that humans still developed at much the same rate. "Although, you've got to understand that we know a whole lot more about the learning potential of children than you did in the twenty-first century. Most kids are brought up knowing four or five languages, and introduced to higher mathematical concepts at a much earlier age. As long as they think it's fun, there's no fear of overstressing them."

"Actually, Jack. The human brain is evolving at a much faster pace in the fifty-first century than it is in the twenty-first. Children are able to understand the concepts of applied mathematics and physics by the age of six because they're able to utilize more areas of their brain." Sniffing, he added somewhat pompously, "Still miniscule compared to a Time Lord's brain, mind you, but just you wait until the human race evolves to the point of downloading their consciousness into computers. Now that's when the real learning begins."

Melissa smirked at Jack. "You have to forgive him; _The Matrix_ was one of his favorite movies."

"Which brings up another question," Jack said quietly; he had noticed that Hope was finally beginning to settle sleepily against the Doctor's chest. "How did two Time Lords become such experts on Earth? I mean, you know a heck of a lot more about Earth culture than I do."

"We both specialized in Muggle Studies." Grinning flippantly at Luke, she saw that he instantly understood. Jack, however, was still confused.

"Okaaay, Is that some species I'm not familiar with?"

Sarah Jane shook her head. "How can you have lived through the last twenty years without being familiar with Harry Potter, Captain?"

"Jack can't even name the football leagues, much less the teams, Sarah. I think he spent too much time underground." The Doctor held his breath, hoping that Jack wouldn't be uncomfortably reminded of the Hub's destruction, but the Captain took his comment in the manner in which it had been intended.

"Hey, that's not entirely true, Doc! I'll have you know that I was too busy studying pre-colonization interpersonal relationships to bother with popular culture."

"Which simply means you were too busy shagging anything that moves to pay attention." As soon as the playful joke escaped her lips, Melissa colored in embarrassment. "I apologize, Sarah Jane. I shouldn't have said that in front of Luke."

The teen immediately attempted to reassure her. "That's okay, Mrs. Harkness. I understand what the word shagging means. Mum told me that I couldn't engage in sexual intercourse until I was older, but it would be interesting to hear of Captain Harkness' experiences. He could tell me how the process differs between Time Lords and humans."

The Doctor choked on his tea, necessitating Hope's removal from his arms. The heavy-lidded child made no protest as Jack settled her against him, even though his entire body was tense with pent-up laughter. Sarah Jane simply rolled her eyes at her guests.

"We are not discussing that right now, Luke." Glancing at the Captain, she added forbiddingly, "Or ever. It is not appropriate table conversation." Then, her eyes found Melissa, and her stern expression turned into a wry smile. "And, you're not reserved at all this time, are you?"

Smugly, she gazed possessively at her bond mates. "Would you be with these two?"

Eyes dancing with amusement, Sarah Jane admitted that she would not. As the conversation turned back to popular culture, she observed her friends fondly. It was reassuring to see them so content.

Three weeks ago, she had been more than troubled when the Doctor had appeared alone at Alistair's funeral sporting a new, much younger looking face. He wouldn't even discuss Melissa or Jack's whereabouts, except to bitterly say 'spoilers'—an infuriating expression if she'd ever heard one. When she had finally sussed out that the Doctor was farther along on their timeline, she'd been more insistent. In the end, he'd privately admitted that he was alone once again, but refused to explain further.

She'd done the only thing she could do; she'd given him a hug. She'd almost cried as he'd trembled against her. It was impossible to know how much older that particular version of the Doctor had been, and she could only hope that it had been extremely far into his future.

The trio plus two stayed with Sarah Jane and Luke for the rest of the day, deciding to pay a visit to Donna and her family in the morning. Doris was visiting her sister, and unfortunately, wouldn't be home for another two weeks. Clyde and Rani were invited to dinner; both enjoyed seeing the Doctor and his family.

Naturally, Rani and Clyde understood the social graces better than Luke, and managed to refrain from asking too many embarrassing questions. From the eager look on Clyde's face, however, Melissa suspected he would be grilling Sarah Jane's son for information as soon as the teens were alone. She smiled wistfully; Matthew had been much the same.

Tending to Owen at three-thirty that morning, Melissa's thoughts again turned towards her children now gone. For once, her memories were a balm to her tired mind. While Athena, Susan, Matthew and Joy could never be replaced, she finally realized that the presence of Hope and Owen took away some of the sting of their absence. In the privacy of her thoughts, she did something she thought she'd never do-she thanked the Bad Wolf.


	30. One Wrong Word

Author's Notes - Life has been hectic, and I'm thankful for getting to post this at all.

* * *

><p>The trip to Donna's was made early the next morning with a minimum of fuss. They'd not called beforehand, deciding to surprise their friend with their sudden appearance. In retrospect, perhaps it would have been better if they had prepared her in advance.<p>

Opening the front door, Donna regarded the Doctor and Melissa with misgiving. Their bodies blocked the view of the pram, and Jack lagged behind, having insisted on walking by himself. Before either Time Lord could open their mouth in greeting, she started to rant.

"So, where exactly on our timeline are you this time, Sunshine? And, why the flipping hell is River Song standing next to you?"

Melissa smiled, ruefully shaking her head as she dryly addressed the Doctor. "Her powers of observation seem to be as keen as yours, Sweetie." Then, enveloping Donna in a hug, she asked, "So, do you like the new body?"

"Melissa? Oh, my god! It's so good to see you! We've been worried sick!" Then, her face fell as she realized exactly what her new appearance foreshadowed. "Oh, sweetheart, I'm sorry. You look exactly like the woman from the Library."

Giving the Doctor a pointed look, she did her best to make light of it. "Yes, I found that out rather quickly. But, right now, I want to show you something much more important."

Stepping aside to reveal the pram, she picked up Hope and placed her in Donna's arms. "This is Hope, who is excited to meet you, and that is Owen, who would be excited to meet you if he wasn't sleeping again. He's only been out of the artificial womb for fifty-six hours, so you'll have to forgive him."

"They're both gorgeous!"

"We like to think so," Jack cheerfully called out, finally close enough to hear the conversation.

Peering around the Doctor, she caught sight of the Captain. "Jack! You're walking! Martha said there wasn't any hope. Have you rung her yet? She's going to be delighted."

"Not yet," the Doctor answered for him. "We thought we'd see you first. Well, when I say first, I mean second. Technically, we saw Sarah Jane first-and Luke, mustn't forget Luke. Oh! And Clyde and Rani. Remarkable young people, even with their sniffles. So, let's see, you are in actuality number five." Seeing his friend's look of exasperation, he added with a snap of his teeth, "Not that we'd ever put you fifth, or even second, Donna."

"That mouth of yours is going to get you in real trouble one day, Spaceman. Now, come on inside before the babies catch cold. It's starting to snow. And, yes, before you ask, it's real snow."

"Didn't say it wasn't," he harrumphed as they barreled into the Noble home. By the time Jack made it inside, he was shivering from the cold, and Sylvia happily fussed over him as the Doctor introduced the children to Wilf.

For the second time in two days, they explained everything that had happened since their abrupt departure. Recalling Melissa's ordeal, the only thing the Doctor left out was Jack's presence at their children's birth. Again, Melissa gave him a funny look, but didn't challenge him.

In truth, she had been so weak during labor and delivery that she didn't trust her recollections to be completely reliable. Perhaps she had wished for Jack so much that her mind had tricked her into believing he was present. It certainly explained how he could be lying at death's door on Earth while she remembered him holding her hand and encouraging her to be strong.

When they described Jack's recovery, Donna was very impressed that the High Council had authorized his advanced medical treatment. For all of humanity's advances, paralysis resulting from his type of trauma would not be completely reversible until the late fifty-fifth century. It was unprecedented that the Council had deliberately allowed a human access to technology from beyond his birth era.

"Well, that was a bit of luck," Wilf remarked good naturedly. "Can't say as I blame them for keeping stuff like that under wraps. There'd be an awful lot of people who'd do just about anything for that type of technology right now."

Donna sympathetically patted his hand. He'd been diagnosed with late stage pancreatic cancer just the day before. It had already metastasized to his liver, and there was little that could be done except try to keep him comfortable.

The Doctor, having noticed the gesture, gazed curiously at Donna. Her eyes were brimming with tears. Guessing it had something to do with Wilf's health, he didn't comment. Instead, he abruptly changed the topic of conversation to the joys of fatherhood, a much lighter subject. He vowed to find out exactly what was wrong with Wilf later.

Sylvia was as opinionated as ever, but everyone accepted it as part of her personality. Now that she no longer belittled her daughter, she was almost pleasant. She still had a somewhat overbearing nature, which Melissa had the privilege of witnessing firsthand.

Late that afternoon, when Hope was tired enough to be cranky and Owen had decided he was starving, Melissa searched frantically through the babies' bag to find Hope's blanket. Pulling out the identical tie-dyed squares of flannel, she automatically sniffed each in order to determine which one belonged to her daughter.

"What are you doing?" Slyvia demanded, taken aback by the strange display.

Carrying a bawling Owen, Melissa dropped her daughter's blanket on Jack's lap before explaining. "I needed to know which is which. I can smell Hope's scent on that one."

As she settled in a quiet corner to nurse, Sylvia pursed her lips, thinking furiously. Without asking, she took the identical blanket out of the bag, turning it around to study the vivid swirls of color.

"I'll be back in a minute."

Bemused, Melissa nodded, quickly putting Donna's mother out of her mind as she focused on Owen. At five pounds, he seemed so tiny; even Matthew had been bigger. His eyes were slowly turning chocolate, and she felt the tiniest pang of disappointment. She wished he could have Jack's eyes, but it was a fleeting thought. He was beautiful. No doubt, he would have Jack's charming personality, and that would more than make up for it.

The infant had fallen asleep against her by the time Sylvia returned. Holding the blanket aloft so Melissa could see, Donna's mother pointed to the corners. She had embroidered a trio of gold stars in each one.

"There, I'm fairly good with a sewing machine, and now you won't have to sniff to find the right one. Behavior like that might be acceptable where you come from, but here, it's not done."

Stifling the urge to grin and say, "Yes, ma'am," in an exaggerated tone of voice, Melissa sincerely thanked Sylvia. It wasn't a bad solution. Then, in an effort to be polite, she asked her to share some stories from Donna's childhood. By the time Sylvia had finished, Melissa was grinning from ear to ear. Donna had mellowed with age; she certainly had been a handful as a child.

They lingered at the Nobles for as long as they possibly could. But, Wilf was too tired to tolerate the inevitable cries of infants for too long, and within a couple of hours, they found themselves saying goodbye. Donna offered to return with them, but they assured her that they would call her if needed. Everyone knew their answer for the polite lie it was, but their friend was wise enough not to point it out. Instead, she gave them each a warm hug.

* * *

><p>As a well bundled Hope did her best to wriggle through the grating in the console room, the Doctor and Melissa worriedly stole a glance at Jack. He sat on the jump seat, eyes seemingly riveted to the pram where Owen slept soundly. When the time rotor didn't engage after a few seconds, however, he met their gaze.<p>

"It's time. We need to do this."

Satisfied by his resolve, they somberly piloted the ship to appear on the outskirts of the Plass. Scooping up Hope, Melissa pushed down the impulse to use the children as an excuse to stay inside the TARDIS. Jack was right; they all needed to face what had happened.

Stepping outside, her soft leather boots crunched under the thick layer of snow while icy flakes stung her face. Even the weather seemed to be mocking them; it was not a time to linger and process their grief. Tightening her grip on Hope, she determinedly trudged closer to the massive crater ringed by yellow caution tape that dominated the landscape.

Jack arrived ahead of her. He'd teleported uncomfortably close to the edge of the hole, staring at the dark abyss with a grim expression on his face. As she approached, he made no move to acknowledge her presence, and she kept a respectful distance, not wanting to add to his upset.

It was difficult enough for her to look at the ruins of what had been such an integral part of her life for the past year. She could only imagine how much worse it was for Jack. Even their daughter seemed to be affected. She began to fret, whimpering softly to herself as Melissa grieved for everything Romana had destroyed.

After a minute, the Doctor quietly joined his wife and daughter. Taking Hope out of Melissa's arms, he granted what comfort he could to a child who was advanced enough to sense the emotions involved, but far too young to understand them. Eventually, she settled as he murmured gentle, calming assurances.

Jack might have stood in front of the remnants of the Hub forever, seemingly impervious to the frigid storm. Melissa and the Doctor had no intention of letting him do that, however. Exactly twenty minutes after their arrival, they joined him at the threshold of the destruction, their very presence a pointed reminder that all had not been lost.

"It's time to go home," the Doctor said softly.

Anguish twisted the Captain's face as he tore his eyes off the ruins of the Hub. "You tell me where that is, Doc. Because I've got to tell you, right now, I don't have a clue."

Ignoring the crutches, Melissa wrapped her arms tightly around him as the Doctor answered with tender compassion. "Home isn't a where, Captain. Thought you knew that by now."

Hazarding a gentle smile, he finished, "Home's a who, or in this case, several who's, one of whom has woken up decidedly cross." Holding up his sonic screwdriver, he placed it close to his ear. "Yep, Owen's definitely awake and not happy to be alone in his cot in the TARDIS. If we don't get back soon, no telling what kind of mischief he might get up to."

Jack smiled half-heartedly at the thought of the baby making any type of mischief at all. Already, he was proving to be a sweet and placid child, crying only when hungry or in need of a change.

"Yeah, I guess we wouldn't want him taking off without us. I mean, getting stuck here right now would definitely suck."

Melissa squeezed him all the harder as the Doctor's smile widened. "Well," he drawled, "It would be rather embarrassing to have to ring my brother and beg a lift. Not to mention having to explain that the TARDIS had been stolen from her original thief."

Jack smirked; the thought of tiny Owen joyriding in the TARDIS was a bit much. "We'd better get back then," he announced in a tone that was much closer to his usual spirited self.

His bond mates quickly agreed. Jack and Melissa teleported back to the TARDIS, while the Doctor carried Hope through the swirling snow. A few more minutes and they would have a proper blizzard on their hands. No wonder they hadn't seen many people walking about.

The next hour was taken up with meeting the children's needs and plying Jack with coffee in an effort to warm his chilled body. Even with the coat, his core temperature had dropped in the short amount of time he'd stood in the storm. Sneaking a glance at him as she changed Owen, Melissa noticed the now empty coffee cup dangling from his slack hands.

The Doctor noticed it as well. Carefully, he plucked it from Jack's fingers and then resumed rolling a bright, soft ball towards Hope. Even her happy shrieks as she pushed it back towards the Doctor weren't enough to wake Jack.

"Should we get him to bed?"

"Nah, the recliner's comfortable enough. Blanket might not go amiss, though."

Handing a now clean Owen to the Doctor, Melissa found a quilt in a linen closet tucked away in the wardrobe room. When she returned with it, Hope was gently patting her brother's head, a look of amazement on her face.

"Bud-dah."

"Yes, that's your brother Owen," the Doctor replied matter-of-factly.

Hope appeared to consider this, and then she smiled excitedly. Pointing to the Doctor, she said, "Dada." Then, she pointed to Jack and did the same. Finally, she pointed to Melissa. With what could only be described as a devilish grin, she distinctly said, "Dada," before bursting into a fit of giggles.

"She has your terrible sense of humor," Melissa playfully huffed as she sat down next to the Doctor on the floor. The ball rolled her way, and she gently pushed it towards her daughter, who giggled all the more.

"She's brilliant. Although, I've got to say, she's becoming as cheeky as our Captain. I can't wait to see what Owen picks up from him." With a theatrical shudder, he added forbiddingly, "I just hope he doesn't listen to all of his stories and decide that clothing's optional. That might make visits to his uncle decidedly uncomfortable."

"I'm sure it would take a lot to shock Brax. Now, if Jack showed up for a visit nude, that might get his attention."

Chuckling, he granted that it might. They spent the next two hours sitting on the floor of their bedroom, playing with Hope and allowing Owen some supervised time to lie on his stomach. He didn't tolerate the view for very long. Not being able to raise his head to see the happy noises coming from his sister frustrated him very quickly. Before he could work himself up to a loud wail, however, the Doctor gently flipped him on his back.

That seemed to satisfy him, and he spent a contented hour gazing at the black and white, soft blocks Melissa had placed in front of him. He had almost fallen asleep when the blue and red ball rolled against him. He startled, crying from the shock rather than any injury he might have sustained. His wails upset Hope, who started bawling in sympathy.

The commotion was loud enough to wake Jack. As Melissa gave him a short explanation, she picked up Owen and sat in the chair beside him. At less than a week old, the baby needed a ridiculous amount of sleep. Patting his back, she soon had him quiet and relaxed.

Hope didn't cry for long. Once she was in the Doctor's arms, she appeared to forget the reason for her tears and grinned once more. Then, she threw her arms out towards Jack, squealing "Dada" most plaintively. With a grin, the Time Lord transferred her to the Captain's lap.

"Hello, Princess. You certainly were making a racket."

The Doctor unabashedly watched them both. It wasn't long before Hope charmed a smile from Jack, who had taken out a handkerchief to blot her tears. Inspired, he turned the handkerchief into a makeshift puppet and began to tell Hope the story of the Gingerbread Man. She listened intently, entranced by the sound of his voice. Before he could get to the end, she was fast asleep, a soft smile lingering on her face.

"She has you wrapped around her finger, you know."

He looked up to find the Doctor gazing affectionately at them both. "Just like her mother," he candidly agreed.

"There is that. Would you like me to take her?"

At his nod, the Doctor picked up Hope and placed her in her cot. Melissa followed with Owen a few seconds later. The TARDIS dimmed the lights in the nursery as she closed the door.

Grasping the Doctor's hand, she sauntered over to Jack. "They should both sleep for at least a couple of hours. Now, did I hear someone say that I had them wrapped around my finger?"

"It's not just me, Sweetheart. It's the Doc, too."

"Speak for yourself, Captain."

She practically purred in response. "Hmm, now that definitely sounds like a challenge. What do you think, Beloved?"

Liking the sound of that very much, the Doctor rapidly got into the spirit of the game. "Testing Jack's hypothesis might be of benefit."

"For you or for me, Doc?"

Bending down, she whispered a suggestion in the Captain's ear. He quickly decided that it didn't matter—being wrapped around her finger was absolutely fantastic.

* * *

><p>The TARDIS materialized in the lobby of the high-rise where Mickey and Martha now shared a flat. Jack struggled to keep up while the Doctor pushed the button to call the lift. Melissa had decided to put the children in the pram, although Hope was grabbing the side precariously as she strained to see where they were going.<p>

Only five weeks of age, she was too tiny to be placed in a stroller meant for an older, human child, but if she didn't stop sitting up in the pram she was going to hurt either herself or Owen. Deftly, the Doctor picked her up, and she immediately stopped fussing.

"She'll have her first growth spurt in a few weeks," he remarked conversationally as they waited for Jack.

"Four days of no sleep. That should be fun."

"It'll be fine. We can take turns."

She ignored his overly optimistic comment, focusing instead on Jack. He looked weary again, and she couldn't blame him. In many ways, it would have been easier to have gone to Alistair's funeral. At least they wouldn't have had to explain more than once. Thankfully, Martha and Mickey had never heard of River Song. She'd had enough concern and sympathy from Donna to last a lifetime.

This time, they waited for Jack to reach the flat before knocking on the door. When Martha answered, she looked pleased, but not surprised.

"Oh, it's good to see you!" She fiercely hugged the Captain as she kept her dismay at his debility well hidden. "We were expecting you hours ago! Donna phoned and said you were on your way."

"We went to the Hub first."

Understanding, she patted him on the back as she led him inside. Melissa and the Doctor followed with the children. The next several minutes were taken up with greetings and offers of refreshment.

Twenty minutes later, after they had given her a bare bones account of what had happened to Melissa when Romana had abducted her, there was the sound of the key scratching against the lock. Glancing in that direction, Martha's face became guarded.

"Jack, I know he's the last person you probably want to see, but we didn't have much choice."

Wondering why she thought he didn't want to see Mickey, he watched the door open, revealing not one but two men.

Grabbing his crutches, he angrily stood up, more than ready to do bodily harm to the man before him. "You have a hell of a lot of nerve being here!"

Sucking in his breath, John Hart managed to keep his emotions under control—barely.

"Look what the cat dragged in. You look like hell, by the way."

Then, noticing the intimidating woman who was doing her best to kill him with glares of pure hatred, he grinned unpleasantly. "What is it with you and gingers, Jack? First that woman in prison, then Red and now the Amazon warrior? How much of an Oedipus complex do you have, anyway?"

Before Jack could react, Melissa marched over to Hart and slapped him resoundingly on the right cheek. "I've always wanted to do that," she remarked smugly. Then, she truly let him have it.

"You really are a moron, aren't you? The children are mine! I regenerated, you stupid ape! And, call me an Amazon again, and I'll show you just how much I'd enjoy giving you pain!"

"Emma."

Grudgingly, she took her eyes off Hart to look at the Doctor. His admonition had been plain. If he thought for an instant that she was going to apologize, however, then he didn't know her at all.

Hart backed slowly away from Melissa, every move slow and deliberate, as if he had disturbed a very irate rattlesnake. "You're a Time Lord."

Borrowing a phrase from the Doctor, she turned bitingly sarcastic. "Give that man a medal!"

"And, you know my Agency designation."

"So?"

He opened his mouth to retort, but suddenly snapped his jaw closed. A conniving expression flitted across his face. "So, unless you want Jacky-boy here to learn of a few certain facts, I suggest you figure out a way to fix what that blonde bimbo did to me. I'm tired of being Torchwood's personal guard dog, and I just might start reminiscing."

Melissa didn't understand Hart's threat at all. Jack knew just about everything there was to know about Time Lords. What information could his ex-partner possibly have that would hurt her?

The Captain didn't have any clue what John was talking about, either, but the implied threat enraged him. And, the thought of all that might have been avoided had his onetime lover been honest in the first place channeled that anger into a fierce tirade.

"A guard dog? Is that what you think you are? Because, I've got to tell you, if you were a guard dog, you'd be a Chihuahua. You can't guard shit, John! Ianto's dead because of you! And, I don't know why you're still sticking around! You think you're going to get a job now? Think Torchwood will protect you from the Agency? Well, let me clue you in on a little secret. There is no more Torchwood! It blew up, and there's no putting it back together!"

"Jack, no!"

"Captain, wait!"

But, his bond mates' warnings came an instant too late. The words had already been spoken. For an instant, John Hart's eyes widened in shock, and then his lifeless body crumpled to the ground.

Martha rushed to his side while Mickey stared at Jack, disgusted by what he'd just witnessed. "What the hell did you do that for, Captain? Hart was a tosser, but he didn't deserve to die!"

"I didn't do anything! I just told him the truth!" He bellowed at the unfairness of the question, until he saw the looks on the Doctor and Melissa's faces. "What?"

Taking a deep breath, Melissa quietly explained. "The Bad Wolf left him with only two possible timelines, Jack. Defend Torchwood, or die. When you told him Torchwood didn't exist, that timeline unraveled, leaving only death."

"But—"

As realization dawned, he was horrified at what he had unintentionally done. He wanted to protest, to take his words back, but the damning evidence lay motionless on the carpet in Martha's flat. Unable to cope with his actions, he punched a button on his Vortex Manipulator and disappeared.

"Jack!"

Melissa took two steps towards where he'd been standing before understanding how foolish she must look. There were thousands, no millions, of places he could have gone, and running after him wasn't an option.

Desperate to change the situation, however, she decided it didn't matter if she looked foolish at all. Glaring at the ceiling, she began to yell.

"He made a mistake! He didn't want Hart dead! He has enough guilt to deal with, damn it! You can't do this! You can't make him think this was his fault! Do you understand? You're the Bad Wolf! You're better than this! You can't shred Hart's timeline! It's wrong! Bring him back! Bring him back!"

The Doctor stared at her. Martha and Mickey stared anxiously at Hart. Both infants, now awake, wailed. And, nothing changed, nothing at all.

Dully, Melissa looked down at the dead man on the floor. "We'll put him in the TARDIS. Jack might know his people's funeral customs."

She was trembling; no, she was shaking—shaking with rage and fear. She didn't understand what had just happened. Oh, she knew the mechanics of it well enough; that wasn't what terrified her. Because of the Bad Wolf, John Hart had just died, his life snuffed out as easily as the Daleks she had divided into atoms on the Game Station.

But, there was no justification for it at all. Had the Bad Wolf been angry? Vengeful? Or merely cold and careless? With a shudder, she took a gasping breath, doing her best not to hyperventilate. If this was due to carelessness, then what else might go wrong? And, if it had been done in retribution, what rules did Bad Wolf follow?

The Doctor pushed aside his own feelings to concentrate on her wellbeing. His strong embrace pulled her from her panic. Again, she was aware of Owen and Hope's cries, of Martha's regretful countenance, of Mickey's unease. For a brief moment, she buried her head against his shoulder, wanting to do nothing more than to be reassured by the comfort of his embrace.

For once, he didn't tell her everything would be alright. "Mickey and I will take care of Hart. Owen and Hope need you right now. I'll see if I can't find Jack as soon as I'm finished here."

She nodded, hastily wiping a few stray tears from her face. He wasn't wearing his coat; she wasn't, either. That thought brought on a new wave of panic. "If Jack's outside, he'll get too cold. He could—"

"I'll find him before it gets to that point," he promised.

Then, his eyes locked on his former companion as he continued to speak to Melissa in calm, gentle tones. "Martha will stay here with you. She'll fix you some tea. You need to keep up your strength."

The implication that she was in any way weak irritated her enough that she pulled away from him, her eyes flashing with annoyance.

"There's my girl." He smiled, kissing her briefly before she could protest. He hadn't been sure the subtle dig would have any effect, not that he'd intended it as a dig at all. She did need to be strong. Jack needed her at her best just as much as the twins did at the moment.

"I hate you." But, it was said with grudging respect, and she exposed it for the lie it was by tenderly rubbing her thumb over his cheek.

Finally, she could look down at the corpse with a modicum of dispassion. "You can manage a stasis field for the body, can't you, Sweetie?"

Her sarcasm was a coping mechanism at that point, and he easily ignored the jibe. "I think that's best. You're right; Jack will want to be involved with the disposition of remains once he's calmed down."

She didn't answer him directly. Forcing herself to look away from Hart's accusing eyes, she addressed Martha with as much calm as she could muster. "Do you mind if we stay in your bedroom for a while? I'd rather not have to watch."

Martha, who had picked up Hope seconds before the baby could roll off the sofa, nodded blankly. Fifty conflicting thoughts swirled in her head, but the one that popped out of her mouth was ingrained by a childhood spent in the Jones' household.

"Yeah, of course, only it's a little untidy at the moment. Sorry, I've been meaning to clean, but you must know how it is, especially living with two men. Mickey leaves his stuff all over the floor."

As Mickey protested that he cleaned well enough, Melissa had to stifle the urge to laugh. She had a horrible feeling that any laughter on her part would turn hysterical. There was Hart lying dead in the den, and Martha was worried about a messy bedroom.

"I think it will be cleaner than in here," she found herself saying, the grimness of the situation overtaking her once again.

Staring down at the body, Martha quickly agreed.

* * *

><p>Horrified by what he had undeniably wrought, Jack teleported with only one thought in mind. He needed to get away from the ones he loved before he hurt them too. Popping back into existence, he found himself at the bottom of the crater that had once been the Hub.<p>

Walking gingerly over the uneven, snow-covered ground, he wondered what he was stepping on. Nothing was recognizable. Stumbling, his crutches slipped on an icy patch, and he fell on a pile of sharp rubble.

It was only after he wiped his face with his hand that he saw the blood. He must have sliced his cheek when he fell on the sharp concrete shards. He was too numb with cold for it to hurt.

The wind whipped the heavily falling snow into a swirling maelstrom, and he watched it emotionlessly, his self-loathing and fury leeching out of his body as his temperature continued to drop. Before his thoughts succumbed completely to the cold, he unwillingly acknowledged that his ex-partner's death was not his fault. He'd been angry, yes, and had spoken without thinking, but he'd never wanted to kill John. No, he'd been the catalyst, but the Bad Wolf had done the deed.

Like Melissa, he thought that idea terrifying. He couldn't, wouldn't let those close to him suffer like John had. Haltingly punching in the coordinates in his Vortex Manipulator, he only hoped he wasn't too late. He needed to make sure that Gwen was safe.

* * *

><p>Rhys Williams was thankful for the bad weather. There would be no haulage of goods today. He had spent most of the morning in bed with Gwen, doing his best to cheer her without mentioning any of the horrible events that had stolen away her happiness.<p>

Not even suggesting outrageous baby names had helped, however. In fact, it had made things worse. She'd burst into tears and begged that their son be named Ianto. At least she'd not asked that he be named Jack—poor bastard. Yet again, Rhys wondered at his fate, and the fate of his family.

The rest of the afternoon had gone mildly better. Gwen had her appetite back, and had complimented him on his spaghetti Bolognese. She'd settled on the couch, her head resting against his chest, and talked seriously about rejoining the police force after her maternity leave.

He didn't like the idea of her putting herself in danger once more, but he didn't voice his concerns. He knew his wife well enough to know that on some level, she blamed herself for Ianto's death. She'd felt guilty for taking a leave of absence from Torchwood, and no amount of arguing from him would convince her that she would have merely died with him.

When he heard the bell as the darkness outside became more pronounced, he almost didn't answer the door. Gwen was napping against him, and he couldn't think of a single good reason why anyone would be outside. The second, more insistent bell convinced him that whoever it was, he was not about to give up and go away.

"Sorry, Love," he whispered as he eased his body off the sofa. She groggily readjusted, lying on her side, her fists a poor substitute for a pillow.

The bell rang a third time, testing Rhys' patience. He yanked open the door with the intent to give their visitor a piece of his mind. But, seeing Jack without his trademark coat, bleeding and shivering on his doorstep took the breath out of his lungs.

"What the bloody hell?"

Not noticing the crutches in the dim light, Rhys pulled him inside, only to have the Captain end up on top of him as his balance gave way.

He couldn't help but notice the short crutches then; one of them was uncomfortably close to his groin. Extricating himself from the linoleum floor, he helped Jack into a chair from the nearby dining room table. He was in no condition to walk, and Rhys practically dragged him through the small kitchen.

It was a feat he would have been unable to perform if the Captain had been his proper weight, and Rhys watched worriedly as an all too human Jack Harkness hunched miserably in the chair and shook with cold.

"You okay, mate?"

"I need to talk to Gwen," he managed to say through chattering teeth.

Rhys bit back a curse. Damn the man for coming back here and stirring up trouble. Gwen didn't need the stress of seeing him. He considered ordering his problem away, but his wife's entrance put an end to that thought.

"Jack!"

Looking up, he tried to smile; it was not one of his better efforts. "Hello, gorgeous."

Rhys' jaw clenched as his wife flew to Jack's side, hugging him as tightly as her advanced pregnancy would allow.

"You're freezing, Jack!" All of a sudden, she was as decisive as she had ever been when facing an alien invasion.

"Rhys, put on the kettle and get some blankets."

Turning her gaze to the Captain, she did her best to look stern when all she wanted to do was cling to him to reassure herself she wasn't dreaming. "And you, strip. I'll not have you dying of hypothermia in my house before I get some answers out of you."

Sheepishly, he did just that, although Rhys had to help him with his trousers. Gwen then wrapped him in several wool blankets and plied him with hot tea. While she cleaned the cut on his cheek, she peppered him with questions.

"Where have you been, Jack? Martha was convinced you had died. What happened to Melissa? Is she alright? Did she have the babies? Are they well? You do know about Ianto, yeah?"

As he slowly warmed, he did his best to satisfy her curiosity. When he admitted that he'd been visiting Martha and Mickey, Rhys quietly made a phone call. Jack didn't notice, having finally gotten to the reason he had appeared on her doorstep.

"Listen to me, Gwen. I don't know if this will make any sense, but I need you to do as I say. Forget me; forget you ever heard about Torchwood. I've got money in several accounts that I will never use. I want you to have it. I want you to have a beautiful baby boy and live your life with Rhys like a normal person, without having to worry about aliens or the fate of the planet. UNIT's there to take care of that. The Rift's closed; the Weevils are gone; the Hub's been destroyed; and Ianto's dead. It's over. Torchwood's gone, and I don't want you getting hurt on my account."

Listening in on the tail end of the conversation, Rhy thought that was an excellent plan. Gwen Cooper had other ideas, however.

"What aren't you telling me, Jack Harkness? Are you still in some kind of danger? Because if you think I'm just going to turn my back on you when you need me, you don't know me very well at all!"

"I'm dangerous, Gwen. After everything I've explained to you, I would have thought that would be obvious. And, I don't want you or your family getting hurt because of me. I won't have another John because I assumed the Bad Wolf would behave like the Doctor!"

"Yeah?" she challenged. "You think I don't know that you're dangerous, Jack? I've been in danger ever since I met you, but that didn't stop me before. So, you tell me again why I should forget I ever met you."

"For god's sake, Gwen! You're having a baby!"

"Yeah, well, from what you told me, you have two! Not planning on running away from them, are you? 'Cause, if you are, I think those Time Lords of yours would most likely hunt you down and drag you back kicking and screaming."

Looking down at her rounded belly, Gwen's lips started to twitch in amusement. Jack hadn't thought of a suitable response, which meant she had the upper hand. "And don't think you're going to get out of being Uncle Jack. I have to have someone to annoy Rhys with. His mother is about to drive me stark raving mad."

With that pronouncement, he knew he'd lost the argument, but he wasn't going to let her stubborn Welsh pride get in the way of her future. She deserved a normal life, free from danger.

"I'm still giving you the money."

Glancing up at Rhys, who had a long suffering expression on his face, she nodded. "Fine, you do that. We'll call it compensation for scaring me half to death. Not one word for three weeks, Jack. I was worried about you."

He grimaced for a reply, and they lapsed into a comfortable silence.

"Those crutches, they permanent?"

Trust Gwen not to dance around the issue. "Hope not. It's only been a little over a month."

She nodded, ignoring the fact that it had been only three weeks for her. Without saying anything more, she took his hand. His features finally softened into a genuine smile.

Rhys watched with equal parts jealousy and grudging respect. Bloody Captain Jack Harkness had managed to do in an hour what he hadn't been able to do in three weeks. For the first time since learning of the destruction of the Hub and everything that had gone with it, Gwen seemed content. And, that was worth almost any price. As he put a chicken on to roast, he decided that Jack wasn't such a horrible boy's name after all.


	31. Homeward Bound

Author's Notes - This takes place a few hours after the last chapter, and I have to warn you that Jack's nightmares are particularly brutal. And, if you don't think there's enough conflict, just wait. The Bad Wolf's not quite finished with them yet.

* * *

><p>"You pull a stupid stunt like that ever again, and I'll lock you in a freezer. At least I'd know where to find the body!"<p>

Jack grunted, unable to speak while the tissue regenerator healed his cheek. He'd never seen the Doctor quite so angry, at least not with him. He should have known that his flight from Martha's flat wouldn't have gone unmentioned, but he'd been lulled into a false sense of security when his bond mates had arrived at Rhys and Gwen's home pretending that nothing was amiss.

Thinking back, he should have seen the signs. Melissa's smile had been quite frosty, but she had spent most of her time showing off the babies and talking to Gwen, and he hadn't thought much of it. With her new personality, he guessed she wasn't one to easily forgive and forget.

The Doctor had been his usual manic, talkative self. If anything, he had been more talkative than normal, which should have alerted him to the fact that something was wrong. The problem was, a great many things were wrong, and he hadn't realized until too late that he had scared his bond mates to the point of anger.

Reaching out, Jack gripped the Doctor's hand. The Time Lord deflated, his irritated demeanor melting into simple weariness. In an unusual display of emotion, he bent down to kiss Jack's forehead.

"You've got a cold. Can't have that. Emma will take it out on my hide if I let you get sick. And, if you infect Owen, it'll be both our hides."

There was so much he wanted to say, but he'd have to wait until the machine had done its work. Squeezing the Doctor's hand all the harder, he tried to apologize with his eyes.

The Time Lord misinterpreted his expression. "It wasn't your fault, Jack. I know you didn't mean to kill Hart. I should have warned you about the danger of discussing Torchwood at all. I'm sorry it happened. There's no way to justify what he went through, and I'm just as worried about the Bad Wolf's actions as you are."

He gave another squeeze. Closing his eyes, he did his best to wait patiently for the opportunity to talk. In his exhausted state, it wasn't long before he fell asleep.

_Jack was in the nursery, wondering why the cheery yellow walls were stained red. He stood over the body of John Hart. His ex-partner's lifeless eyes accosted him even in death, and he quickly turned away. The sound of insane, but all too familiar laughter forced him to whirl around, his sonic blaster in hand. When he did, the Master stood over Melissa's body. Her lifeless eyes stared at him in silent reproach._

"_How does it feel, Freak? You're nothing but a cripple, so weak you can't even save the people you love."_

_His legs gave way, and Jack watched helplessly as the Master smothered Hope._

"_So much for Gallifrey's future."_

_Then, the man who'd had him tortured for a year stood over Owen's cot. The child wailed as the insane Time Lord dangled him by his left foot. Suddenly, the Master focused his attention on this child's eyes. Gleefully, he waved the boy in front of Jack._

"_Chocolate eyes! I should let him live just to prolong the agony. He's going to break your pathetic excuse for a heart." _

_Manic, he threw the baby against the wall. Pouting melodramatically at Jack's scream of outrage, he taunted, "Couldn't help myself. It was just too fun! And, it's so much easier to break you this way. I wish I'd known who the Emissary was before. I would have so enjoyed taking her in front of you and the Doctor. At least a child of my get wouldn't have been defective."_

"_Stop! Just stop!"_

_Jack closed his eyes, unable to take more. When he opened them, his ex-partner stood before him, unhurriedly examining the neat holes in his sword._

"_Boy, a person could have a field day with your subconscious."_

_A dream, it was just a stupid dream. "Shut up, John. You're dead." _

"_Well, thanks a shitload for telling me. I never would have guessed."_

_Jack wanted to groan. He hated it when his subconscious got snarky. "Fine, I get it. I'm insecure about my injury and worried I won't be able to protect my family. Can't I just wake up now?"_

_The wiry blond tossed his sword into an overflowing nappy bin. Tugging at his ankle, he pulled out a wickedly sharp knife and handed it to Hope. "Please, Jack, a two year old could analyze as well as you. You have to dig deeper."_

"_I don't think so. I'd prefer to wake up now."_

"_Small problem with that. You're not asleep. You're delirious."_

_Before he could react, the scene changed again. He was in Rassilon's tomb, only this time, the Bad Wolf held his hand, not Melissa. He could feel the relentless agony as the Moment passed through him. When it was over, two Doctors stood in front of the stone sarcophagus. The one in the blue suit had his arms wrapped around Rose. The more familiar one in brown hugged Melissa._

_All four called out in a singsong voice. "You are tiny."_

_He took a step backwards, only to have Rassilon trap him in a gigantic hourglass. As he pounded on the sides in a desperate attempt to escape, the ancient Time Lord mocked his efforts. _

"_You might as well stay trapped. They barely tolerate you now. Why would they like the real you? The Captain—I should have known you'd pick something so utterly ridiculous. Captain of what? The innuendo squad?"_

_The air was growing stale, and he banged his fist against the glass all the harder. Nothing happened, except that Rassilon suddenly turned into the Master._

"_Captain Jack Harkness. You're so pathetic, Freak. The ultimate fifth wheel. Or is that third? I can't be bothered to learn every single one of these disgusting apes' little idioms."_

_The scratchy white sand burnt his skin. Gasping for air, he knew that death was seconds away. They were all laughing now: Rassilon, the Bad Wolf, the Master, Melissa, the Doctor, even the children. Fighting against it, he thrashed wildly, but it did no good. He started to choke._

"Jack!"

The Doctor pulled Jack upright as he started to gasp for air. His forehead was dangerously hot and his breathing ragged. He'd pushed the duvet off the bed, and the sheets were twisted underneath him.

It was extremely difficult to enter his mind, and when the Doctor finally succeeded, he had to hunt for him among increasingly bizarre and disturbing nightmares. Finally, he found Jack in a strange mindscape. If the Time Lord didn't' know better, he'd say that the Captain had been dreaming of the Eye of Harmony, Rassilon towering over him, shouting taunts.

With a supreme effort of will, the Doctor changed the scene. They were once again in the peaceful valley of Mt. Endeavor. Jack lay on his back, free from the suffocating hourglass. Unfortunately, he appeared to be only half conscious.

Stepping into reality, he shook him into wakefulness.

"Sorry, Captain. I'm afraid this is more serious than a cold. Not to worry, though. I've got something to help you breathe and bring down your fever. Once you take it, it will be easier to rest."

"Don't bother," he gasped between coughs. "Third wheel. Even the Master knows. No good freak."

Whatever Jack had experienced in his nightmare realm had been enough to bring old insecurities to the forefront. It would do no good to argue with him in his fevered state. Determinedly, the Doctor forced him to swallow the drug cocktail he had prepared. Within minutes, his breathing had evened, and the turmoil in his mind disappeared.

Easing him back onto the bed, the Time Lord covered him with a lightweight blanket and sat beside him. After several anxious hours, he wished the bed in the infirmary was big enough for two. The battered, bent chair was uncomfortable as hell.

To take his mind off his discomfort, he thought about Jack. He hadn't seen the Captain suffer nightmares that terrible in months, and he didn't think it could all be blamed on the fever. Leaning back in the chair with a sigh, the Doctor wondered just what it would take to convince him of his true worth.

* * *

><p>Melissa entered the infirmary six hours later. It was early enough that Hope was still sleeping, and she'd just finished feeding Owen. He was safely in his cot, temporarily entranced by the black and red mobile.<p>

Jack's face was flushed, and he coughed weakly in his sleep, but he was resting peacefully for a change. Kissing him on the cheek, she determined that his temperature wasn't dangerously elevated, although it was high enough. He still wheezed a little as he breathed, however.

"I'd strangle him if he wasn't so sick."

"Personally, I think we need a bigger bed in the infirmary."

Gingerly, she sat on a small unoccupied square of the bed. A bigger bed would not go amiss. She, like the Doctor, wanted nothing more than to lie beside Jack and reassure herself that he would recover.

Walking out of the TARDIS at Gwen and Rhy's, she had been appalled at his pallor, but had done her best to hide her distress. It hadn't been easy, and she'd almost stamped her foot with impatience when Rhys had suggested they stay for dinner and Jack had agreed. By the time they had left, he had been so exhausted that the Doctor had been forced to teleport him directly to the infirmary.

And, that's when her temper had begun to boil. Yes, she understood how upset he'd been, and yes, she understood his need to be alone, but he'd been a bloody stupid fool for spending any time at all outside during a raging blizzard. Now that he was nothing more than human, the body modifications made for living on a desert planet put him at increased risk for hypothermia. He was extremely lucky that he'd been coherent enough to make it to the Williams' house before the cold had confused him completely.

He began to thrash about in his sleep, pulling her from her introspection. Reaching out, she smoothed his hair until he calmed.

"His nightmares have been particularly bad."

"After Hart's death, it's no wonder."

Just then, the Doctor's sonic screwdriver began to flash. Owen was no longer happy to be alone. Melissa kissed Jack's forehead and then thoroughly washed her hands in the battered sink.

"Tell him I was here, will you?"

"Of course, Em."

"And, tell him I'll strangle him if he doesn't take it easy."

His facial muscles twitched. He was far too tired to smile. "I will."

* * *

><p>"Here, Jack, take this."<p>

Disoriented, Jack looked at the Doctor blankly for several seconds while he worked out what had happened. And then, his memories came crashing back. He'd done something terrible, accident or not, and then had done something incredibly stupid. He was a complete idiot.

Without thinking, he rubbed his face. His injury had healed, and no scar remained to remind him of his second visit to the ruins of the Hub. He almost wished that the Doctor hadn't fixed it. He felt he needed a visible reminder of his failures.

Reluctantly, he made eye contact with his bond mate, fully expecting to see the anger on his face that had been all too evident when he had healed his cut. Instead, he found nothing but concern.

Seeing that Jack was coherent, the Doctor pressed a tablet into his hand. "There you are, Captain. Emma and I were getting worried. You've slept for almost twenty hours."

He felt like he could sleep for another twenty, but he didn't admit that out loud. Instead, he put the tablet in his mouth and took a glass of orange liquid from the Doctor's hands. Swallowing the small pill, he chased it down with the rest of the liquid.

"That tastes as bad as Vitex."

"Sorry," but he didn't sound sorry at all. "You feel up to eating something?"

"No."

He wasn't surprised. Jack was still feverish, and his body didn't have the correct antibodies to fight the virus he'd been infected with. It was a strain of flu that had died out in the late twenty-first century and therefore not part of the Time Agency's inoculations. Unfortunately, that meant he had to fight the infection just like any other contemporary human. No wonder he wasn't feeling well enough to eat yet.

"Want some help up?"

He was miserable enough to want nothing of the sort, but he counted to ten and nodded curtly. It was just as humiliating as he had feared. By the time he had returned, however, the sheets had been stripped and a wheelchair waited for him, along with his wife.

She looked as bad as he felt, and for a moment he worried that she had caught whatever sickness he had, but the Doctor quickly explained.

"Hope's proving to be quite precocious, even for a Time Lord. She hit her growth spurt eleven hours and thirty-nine minutes ago."

No wonder she looked frazzled, her hair flying in every direction and her face pinched into what looked to be a perpetual scowl. Hope would grow two to three inches in the next four days. It was a process as stressful for the parents as the child.

"Then, you should help with Hope and Owen, Doc. I'll be fine as soon as I get some sleep."

As if his body was intent on mocking him, he coughed so harshly that the Time Lord had to hold him upright until it passed. When he could breathe once again, Melissa pulled him into the wheelchair and pushed him into the Doctor's bedroom.

"We thought you'd be more comfortable here. I know the Doctor will be."

Bracing herself on the armrests, she bent over Jack. "Get some rest, Sweetie." Then she kissed the top of his forehead and raced back to the nursery.

Sick as he was, Jack knew her behavior had been too restrained for her new personality. Once he was settled in bed, he looked up quizzically at the Doctor. "What's with her? I expected her to slice my balls off, not kiss my forehead."

His bond mate actually choked on the strangled laughter that came out of his mouth. When he recovered sufficiently, he smiled warmly, his eyes dancing with delight.

"I wouldn't give her any ideas, Captain. I doubt you would have gotten off so lightly if Hope hadn't needed her so much."

"You should go . . . ."

The sentence was left unfinished as a coughing fit overtook Jack once again. By the end of it, he'd coughed long enough that his chest hurt.

It didn't take a genius to know what he wanted to say, however. "I will as soon as you're sleeping."

If Jack hadn't been so fatigued, he might have protested about being guilted into going to sleep. As it was, he simply closed his eyes. The Doctor watched him intently for a few minutes while he dozed. He'd begun to wheeze slightly when he drew breath, and shivered under the blankets from his fever.

Stupid primitive virus—who would have thought Jack could have been taken ill? He was most likely the healthiest human on the planet. And then, he had to brave a blizzard and compromise his immune system. He'd gotten the flu from Clyde Langer, not that it mattered. The boy had been feeling unwell at dinner, but hadn't mentioned it because he'd been too in awe of meeting the Time Lord whom Sarah Jane spent so much time talking about.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, the Doctor tried to think rationally. He couldn't be two places at once, but both his bond mates needed him. Reluctantly, he admitted to himself that they needed help. But who?

Brax was out of the question, the same for Flavia. They were simply too busy leading Gallifrey out of the dark aftermath of the Time War. Donna would leave Wilf to help them if he asked, but he would never ask. He couldn't ask her to abandon a man he'd come to love as a father figure and respect as a decent human being. Gwen, if she knew the situation, would come without being asked, but it would be foolhardy to expose a pregnant woman to a highly contagious, and so far untreatable, virus. That left Mickey and Martha, who were helping UNIT sift through the debris of the Hub so that nothing that might have survived the blast fell into the wrong hands.

With a start, the Doctor realized that Jack was right. Torchwood was gone. In the short span of three weeks, it had been destroyed and the survivors had moved on. John Hart aside, perhaps it wasn't a horrible realization. Jack could retire with dignity, and no one would think any less of him. And, the three of them were no longer tied to one place, save for the ambassadorship, which he was certain could be filled by any one of a number of Time Lords eager to return to Earth.

As Jack continued to cough in his sleep, the Doctor put those thoughts away for later contemplation. Torchwood might be gone, but that didn't mean they didn't have friends. Pulling out his mobile, he called one of them.

"Hello, Martha? I know you're busy, but I'm afraid we could use a doctor. . . . No, definitely the human kind this time. . . ."

* * *

><p>Hastily toweling dry, Melissa threw on her robe to run to the nursery. She didn't know why she had thought she might have time to take a shower, but four days of no sleep and constant psychic strain were taking their toll. And, she was worried about Jack, whom she hadn't seen in three days.<p>

Hope was finally resting. She'd grown three inches in four days, a traumatic but normal process for Time Lords. Every minute of it had tested Melissa's ability to keep a mental connection with her daughter in order to shield her from the worst of the pain. Growing bone and tissue so rapidly hurt. But, it had also been a precious opportunity to bond with her baby.

There was much more to her impish little girl than she had expected. For her age, she was amazingly self-aware. She had created her own mental image in Melissa's mindscape, appearing as a lithe toddler with enormous blue eyes and a wide, sunny smile. And, she was incredibly brave; Melissa felt none of the fear that was normally present in an infant during her first growth spurt. But, the most important thing she had learned during her daughter's ordeal was that Hope had an endless capacity to love.

She never once resented the time Melissa spent feeding and caring for Owen. Instead, she delighted in watching her brother, seemingly in awe of his deep brown eyes and tiny body. And, she was equally pleased to be in her father's arms as her mother's. In fact, the only time she had shed a tear were those times when she begged vainly for Jack. Melissa had almost cried then, too. She missed Jack just as much as Hope did. While the Doctor had constantly reassured her that his body was fighting the infection and he was in no danger, she wanted to see for herself.

Her hair wrapped in a towel, she bent over Owen's cot, a patient smile on her face. "I see you still have your night and day confused. If you wake your sister, little man, she is going to be decidedly cross."

Picking up the wailing child, she brought him to the bed, changing him on top of the duvet. His cry was a hungry one, and she took him to one of the recliners to nurse. He quieted immediately, gazing up at her in wonder as he satisfied his hunger.

She treasured these quiet times because she knew they would be much too fleeting. Owen's childhood would be over in a blink of an eye, Hope's even sooner. And, tiny as he was, she was beginning to feel like she knew her son. He, like her sister, was a precious gift, and she didn't think any less of him for being fully human.

The peace didn't last for long. The Doctor appeared at the door, looking frantic.

"Jack?" she asked apprehensively.

Cursing himself for making her worry needlessly, he attempted to calm down. "Sleeping. It's Brax. Flavia just contacted me. He collapsed in front of the full Council, and regenerated seconds later. The healers are with him now."

Reaching over, she reassuringly patted his arm. "He'll be fine."

"I know." Composing himself, he softly stroked Owen's downy hair. "How's our boy?"

"Hungry, as usual. I was afraid he would wake up Hope, so I brought him out here. How's Jack?"

He didn't want to lie, but knowing the extent of her exhaustion, he definitely stretched the truth a bit. "Well enough to be a trying patient. Although, he has so much mucus coating his throat that he sounds like a Vowarian frog. Funny thing, mucus. Did you know that humans—"

She stopped him before he could take away her appetite. "No, I do not, nor do I care to, Beloved. After the last few days, all I can think about is spending some time in the kitchen catching up on a few missed meals and then taking a well-deserved nap.

"Lucky for you, Martha cooked a roast. She also sent some potatoes, spinach and a fruit salad. She said you would need a well-balanced meal."

"No dessert?" she teased even as she vowed to do something special to thank their friend.

"Mickey brought over a box of Jaffa cakes. Does that count?"

She gave him a look that said it definitely did not. Then, she turned her gaze to Owen. He'd fallen asleep before she could switch sides. For a moment, she debated waking him, and then decided to let him sleep. If she was lucky, she would have enough time to sit down in the kitchen and eat a hot meal.

After returning the baby to his cot, she knelt before the Doctor, resting her head against his chest. For a few moments, they drew strength from each other, and then she stood briskly and offered him her hand.

"Come on; I'll make you some tea, and if you're very lucky, I'll bake some banana muffins. No cream cheese icing, though. I can't believe I ever liked that." Brightening suddenly, she asked, "Do you think Malcolm could deliver a cheesecake? That sounds delicious."

"Does your new food obsession mean that we'll be making frequent trips to New York?"

"We could go to ancient Greece," she said eagerly without thinking. "I can still remember the taste of that cheesecake we had in Athens when we . . . ." The animation left her face. "Or, we can go to New York. Really, that sounds much better."

Putting his arm around her, he led her to the kitchen. "It's alright. I think we should go back sometime, don't you?"

"Maybe," she answered nonchalantly, busying herself with making muffins so she wouldn't have to look him in the eye. "Jack might like it better than that disastrous trip to Pompeii. We could go see the Colossus at Rhodes. In fact, we could do all Seven Wonders, although I think the Singing Towers of Darillium sounds much more impressive than the Hanging Gardens of Babylon. I know! We could do the Seven Wonders of the Milky Way instead. I've always wanted to hear the towers sing."

If Melissa hadn't been so intent to avoid the Doctor's eyes, she might have noticed the dismay that flitted across his face. As it was, she thought his curt answer very strange.

"No, I think not. The Towers are an overrated tourist trap. If you'll excuse me, I should check on Jack."

When he practically raced out of the room, she had no idea what had gotten into him. Putting the muffins in the oven, Melissa decided to ignore his odd behavior. Soon the kitchen was filled with the warm scent of sweet banana, and she put the entire conversation out of her mind as her stomach growled with hunger.

The Doctor, however, thought about the Singing Towers of Darillium for a very long time.

* * *

><p>They tried for a week after Jack finally recovered to settle into some semblance of their old life. It soon became apparent, however, that nothing was the same. Even the house in Barry no longer welcomed them. As soon as they entered their onetime home, Melissa and the Doctor could feel the echoes of Romana's violence. Disconcerted, they found that they could not ignore what had been, especially in the bedroom. Drocina's desperation, her bravery, her sacrifice; Brax's desolation and agony; Romana's madness; Melissa's own terror—it lay like a thick fog of emotion that was too much to bear.<p>

In the end, they had refused to spend even one night under that roof, choosing instead to gather up their cherished belongings and retreat into the TARDIS. Lacking his bond mates' keener senses, Jack at first did not understand the depth of their reaction, but grabbing his hand, Melissa did her best to show him. For her efforts, he was left with a blinding headache and a vague feeling of revulsion. It was more than enough to convince him to leave.

So, they parked the TARDIS near the Old Norwegian Church, offering to help UNIT with the excavation of the remnants of the Hub. If anyone noticed the ship at all, they considered it nothing more than a piece of modern art, or perhaps a historical display from the nearby visitor's center. Unfortunately, they soon found the location to be much too close to their raw, painful memories.

After a few days, the constant reminder of all they had lost became too much to bear, and they began to speak quietly of leaving. Unlike Jack's Torchwood, UNIT was a true bureaucracy, and the petty rules and regulations they were expected to follow quickly began to chafe. The Doctor found that he had lost all patience with politics, and managed to insult several Heads of State during one particularly bad press conference. And, although she would never admit it, Drocina's absence was beginning to drive Melissa close to the melancholy she had sometimes suffered during her pregnancy. Finally, after a night of very frank discussion, they decided a change was in order. They would return to Gallifrey, living not in the Citadel, but at the Doctor's ancestral home in the valley of Mt. Endeavor.

There was only one more thing Jack needed to do before leaving.

* * *

><p>Ianto Jones' headstone was located in a small churchyard on the outskirts of Cardiff. It had been put there for his sister's sake more than anything else, but Jack hoped to achieve some sort of closure by visiting the empty grave. The Doctor and Melissa stood on either side, ready to offer what comfort they could, but after a few minutes, he forgot they were there.<p>

Leaning on his short crutches, he stared at the marker—_Ianto Jones, He will be missed._ Involuntarily, he snorted, wondering if Gwen or Rhiannon had been the one to put something so trite on the Welshman's tombstone. If it had been up to him, he might have been much more irreverent. After a few seconds of contemplation, however, he realized it fit. Plenty of people missed Ianto Jones, himself included, and wasn't that the best anyone could hope for?

The ground was still wet from the melting snow, and patches of white dappled the brown, lifeless carpet of dead grass. In a field sprinkled with its fair share of obelisks and angels, Ianto's marker was relatively modest, a simple piece of black granite carved with his name, the dates he had lived, and the short epitaph. At least this was still the early twenty-first century, and the dead hadn't started to haunt their own graves as awkward holograms of brash recordings made years earlier. No, he much preferred the silence; it gave him a chance to think.

Eventually, the silence became oppressive, however, and Jack began to speak.

"It was a pretty crappy day when you died, Yan. Not that I knew how crappy right away. I didn't know much of anything for a while. One of the hazards of being mortal now, I guess. A lot of people I cared about died, and I spend a lot of time wondering if I could have done anything to prevent it. Guess I'll never know about that one, huh?"

It was quite chilly, and Melissa silently handed him a cup of coffee as he lapsed into further reflection. He took a sip, and then undid the lid, pouring the hot coffee on the snow below the marker, melting some and staining the rest with the brown liquid.

"I don't pretend to believe you're looking down on me, but I wanted to say—" He choked up; his emotions momentarily too much to handle. "Hell, you know what I want to say. You always did. Anyway, I'm not coming back, at least not for a while, and not here. You aren't here any more than the crater that used to be the Hub. I know it's stupid, but I keep thinking you'll show up somewhere, that you somehow escaped. They didn't find your body, you know, but the Doc tells me that with the force of the explosion, they wouldn't. I hope it was quick. You deserved a hell of a lot more than you got, and I'm sorry."

He wasn't sure if talking to a piece of granite had given him closure, but he knew that it was time to let go. Addressing the Doctor and Melissa, he did his best to remain positive. "Let's pick up the kids. It's time to leave."

* * *

><p>Babysitting Owen and Hope easily convinced Martha and Mickey that they weren't ready to be parents. Hope had been cute and outgoing for her entire visit, but her curiosity was such that she needed constant supervision. Mickey pulled her away from an electrical socket an instant before she managed to put a forgotten paperclip into one of the openings.<p>

Practically shaking from the stress of such a closely diverted disaster, he had distracted her by pulling out several pots and pans from the cabinets in the kitchen and handing her two plastic spoons. He remembered his gran doing the same thing for him. He just hadn't remembered how loud the metal drums had sounded.

Martha had expressed her displeasure rather stridently. To be fair, it was impossible not to yell in order to be heard over the din. The flat really was too small for a percussion band, although the young Time Lord did seem to grasp the concept of rhythm almost immediately.

The chaos had frightened Owen, and Martha spent the next twenty-five minutes attempting to calm him. In the meantime, Mickey desperately searched for a quieter pursuit that would entertain the boy's sister. Grabbing a few pens and a piece of computer paper, he tried to show her the wonders of art, but he was sadly lacking in that area. Finally, out of desperation, he sat her on his lap in front of his computer and introduced her to the wonders of YouTube, which she found fascinating.

Martha, he thought to himself, had the much easier job. Owen spent most of his time lying on a blanket on the floor, watching his mobile. Soon after Hope had frightened him with her impromptu concert, he fell asleep, worn out from so much crying.

By the time the Doctor, Jack and Melissa arrived, Mickey wished to do the same.

Knocking quietly, Melissa was greeted by Martha, who held a finger to her lips.

"Owen's asleep."

It was impossible to maintain the silence when Hope spied them. She squealed with excitement, eagerly calling out and trying her best to squiggle out of Mickey's arms. Thankfully, Owen was used to such outbursts, and didn't even stir.

They had no intention of prolonging their goodbyes. Jack leaned against his crutches as the Doctor took Hope. Melissa efficiently packed up all the baby paraphernalia and then gently placed Owen in the pram.

"I could pick up some lunch," Martha offered, not wanting to acknowledge that they were leaving. It felt too much like a permanent goodbye.

"Brax expects us at home," Melissa explained with a one-armed hug. "We promise we'll be back soon for a visit." Glancing at the Doctor and Jack, she hedged, "Soon for you, at least."

Martha and Mickey had their doubts, but were too polite to voice them. "It better be," she replied with false cheeriness. "Mickey and I might need your help one day with the freelance work he's talked me into."

"Is that all you've talked her into, Mickey Mouse? I would have thought better of you."

Mickey met Jack's lighthearted dig with a grin. "Don't worry, Captain Underpants, I'm wearing her down. Donna told me if I ask enough, Martha'll say yes just to shut me up. So far, I'm up to eight proposals. Maybe the ninth will be the one.

"Mickey!"

Amused, the Doctor felt compelled to give some advice. "Have you tried reciting a sonnet to her, Mr. Mickey?"

"Don't you start too, Mister."

Martha threw her arms around the Doctor, trying, but failing, to appear stern. Peering up at him, she offered her own advice. "You take care, Doctor. I can't tell you how happy I am knowing that you have something to live for now."

"Martha—"

Pulling away, she smiled, her voice resolute even as she feared she would burst into tears. "Go. If you all stay here any longer, I'm not going to be able to let any of you leave."

"Yes, ma'am," the Doctor answered jauntily. Then, bending down, he pressed a kiss against her cheek. "Martha Jones, you truly are an extraordinary woman. Thank you, for everything.

Before she could react, he had bounded to the door, practically bouncing with energy. "The same goes to you, Mickey. I know I haven't thanked you nearly enough for everything you've done."

"So long as you don't kiss me too, Doc."

"Nah, think I'll let Jack have that pleasure."

They all laughed when Mickey's eyes widened in mock horror. "Anything but that."

Melissa muttered something about boys that only Martha could hear. She ended up with tears of laughter instead of sorrow. When their friends had finally left, she looked appraisingly at Mickey.

"You know, I do like a good sonnet."

"Yeah?" He couldn't believe his ears. Was he really going to be that lucky? Could she actually say yes?

"Definitely. Although, I might like it more if you read it to me in the bedroom."

Mickey grinned. He was very lucky indeed.

* * *

><p>"Oy! You lot! Didn't think you could go sneaking out of here without saying goodbye, did you?"<p>

"Donna!"

Melissa hugged her friend while the Doctor opened the door to the TARDIS. As he carried Hope with one arm and pushed the pram into the ship with the other, the brassy redhead embraced Jack.

"You're on your way to becoming a skinny streak of nothing, Sunshine. Best eat up, or the Doctor won't be the only one giving Melissa a paper cut."

"He's had the flu, Donna." Studying Jack, Melissa realized with a pang that she was right. He had lost more weight during his weeklong illness. She'd never seen his cheeks look hollow before.

"He still needs to eat," she responded bluntly as they walked inside.

Once in the console room, Donna's eyes lit up as she made a beeline for the Doctor. "Look at you," she called out excitedly, grabbing Hope from his arms. "You've had your growth spurt, haven't you? You are a beautiful little girl. Yes, you are, even if you've got your Dad's hair."

"Oy!"

"Look at it, Spaceman. It's all over the place, and don't try to tell me it's artfully mussed."

Melissa bit back a laugh to needle her bond mate. "She has a point, Doctor."

Biting back a retort, the Doctor asked about Wilf.

"Today's one of his better days. Some of his friends have come round to visit. Frankly, I was glad of an excuse to get out of Minnie's way. She's rather a handful."

Coming from Donna, that observation was somewhat disturbing. The Doctor vowed to take her home at least several hours later. He had no desire to meet anyone who could run his former companion out of her own home.

Donna understood that Brax expected them for lunch, so the visit was purposefully short. With four piloting the TARDIS, it was simple to land precisely where they wished. The time ship materialized across the street from the Noble household, and a quick reading from the sonic screwdriver indicated that there were only two people inside.

"No Minnie," the Doctor promised as Donna exited the ship.

His cheerfulness was forced, as was Donna's. "You got time to say hello to Gramps?"

Both knew it would likely be a goodbye rather than a hello. Visibly uncomfortable, he ran his fingers through his hair. "Nah, wouldn't want to tire him out. Tell Wilf I'll catch him later."

"Yeah." Her voice was subdued, but she didn't berate the Doctor for cowardice. Sharing most of his memories, she knew far too well how much it hurt him to tell people goodbye. As she made her way to the house, she wasn't surprised that he'd refused.

Closing the door to the TARDIS, the Doctor focused his attention solely on his bond mates. They'd been through so much since saving Gallifrey from the Moment, and it was nothing short of miraculous that they had come through it at all. Yes, there were scars, but they were alive and together with two beautiful children, and that was all that mattered.

Smiling warmly, he engaged the time rotor. "Let's go home."


	32. Facing Fears

Author's Notes - First, I'd like to thank **uzumaki misaki** for reviewing. It's nice to know that people are still discovering this story. In this chapter, the Doctor, Jack and Melissa return to Gallifrey, hoping to make it their home. Hope you enjoy.

* * *

><p>Brax stood under the summer suns in the formal gardens, patiently awaiting his brother's arrival as he admired the stranyth lilies and other exotic blooms. It was a relief to be a mere cardinal once more rather than president, and he fully intended to take a lengthy leave of absence from the CIA before allowing himself to be roped into his duties yet again. Lord Bruno had been most gracious in his victory, telling Brax that he should take all the time he needed.<p>

As his thoughts wandered to the youngest Time Lord ever to serve as Gallifrey's President, a harried looking cook came rushing towards him. "Cardinal Braxiatel! The Lord Doctor and his family materialized in the kitchens! The steward thought you would wish to be informed."

He grinned. His brother's bad driving habits were legendary, but he had thought that his bond sister would have taken better care to park. No matter—while he would never admit it, he had missed them terribly, even Jack. And, he'd heard that Hope had already gone through her first growth spurt. He took off running; he couldn't wait to see his niece and nephew.

Sneaking bits of lunch from the laden kitchen countertops, Melissa studied her bond brother as he hugged the Doctor. Gone forever was the sunny, weathered surfer. The cheerful man before her looked to be barely in his twenties.

He wore black slacks, black boots, a white shirt, and a black leather jacket that looked like it had been borrowed from James Dean. He was maybe a hair's breadth taller than she, and his eyes were a piercing blue. His hair was spiky again, only this time it was raven black. His nose was his only displeasing feature. Round and bulbous, it took up much of his fair face, and she did her best not to comment.

Jack had no such problem. "Wow, Brax, I bet your sense of smell is really good. If your nose is that large, does that mean everything else is proportional?"

Laughing, his voice was deep and rich. "Only you, Harkness. Let's just say I'm pleased with all my physical attributes."

One of the cooks actually dropped a platter of meat onto the floor after hearing his reply, reminding everyone that they were standing in the kitchen and most likely in the way. Blushing, the petite woman apologized, and Lord Braxiatel quickly began to help her clean the mess.

His altruism gave the Time Lord a chance to study the Doctor and his family. Emma looked wonderful. Her regeneration truly suited her, and the lacy blue top she'd chosen to wear only emphasized the fact that his brother and the Captain were two very lucky men. The Doctor appeared to be relaxed as he chatted with the kitchen staff, something Brax hadn't seen in a while.

Jack, however, looked like a strong wind might blow him over. His clothes were too loose, his cheeks hollow. He leaned heavily on his crutches, and still his legs trembled with exertion. His illness must have been severe.

At least the children were the picture of health. Hope had grown at a phenomenal rate, both mentally and physically. As her mother introduced her to some of the staff, she eagerly parroted their names in an effort to remember them. There was no doubt that she was going to be a gregarious extrovert if not a shameless flirt.

Owen had gained weight and was well on his way to developing a personality. Although it was too early for him to genuinely smile, he gave all the appearances of being a contented, happy child. In fact, it was difficult to believe that he had been in the artificial womb only three weeks ago.

Melissa noticed his scrutiny. With a smirk, she handed Hope to the Doctor, and then helped him sweep up the remains of the platter. "I take it we meet with your approval?"

"Everyone except Jack," he bluntly whispered back. Then, realizing that could be taken two ways, he was quick to expound. "Is he well enough to be standing for such a long time?"

Frowning, she glanced at her husband. No wonder Brax was concerned. "Lunch might not be amiss right now."

As soon as Brax had disposed of the mess, he sneered derisively for his audience's benefit. "Still parking the TARDIS where she can do the most damage, I see. And, you were seventeen minutes late, Doc. Although, considering the state of that Type 40 rust bucket, I suppose I should be thankful you managed to make it here at all. Now, can we please move this heartwarming reunion to the dining room? I, for one, am hungry."

Well used to his brother's sniping, the Doctor grinned. "I wouldn't want you to miss a meal, Brax. By all means, lead on."

Melissa squeezed his hand in quick thanks. She kept close to Jack, ready to support him if he needed any help, but he managed on his own—barely. Sitting at the table, he was winded and sweat glistened on his skin. The Doctor, Brax and Melissa intentionally ignored his difficulties, not wishing to smother him.

Hope sat in a miniature high chair, banging the massive oak table with a spoon. Owen listened to the voices from his pram, calmed by their familiarity. And no less than six servants placed far too many platters and bowls of food on the table. There were so many that the dropped plate of meat wasn't even missed.

Brax attempted to fill his plate with small spoonsful of everything, and he still ran out of room before he had run out of dishes to try.

"I think Berxie is trying to impress you, Doctor. Perhaps you should tell her that her position as head cook is secure before you are forced to invite the entire estate to dine merely to finish the leftovers."

"Why should he tell her?" Melissa immediately cut in. "I've been running the household and the estates for over a thousand years."

Oh, no—he was not going to let her get prickly over something so trivial. Putting his fork down, the Doctor easily diffused the argument in the making. "And doing a better job than I ever could, Em. I know it's selfish, but I had hoped that you wouldn't mind continuing to do the same. Now that I have the time, I'm quite interested in theoretical temporal mechanics. I have some insights into paradoxes that I think might be worth further study."

She practically preened at the compliment. "Why, that's very considerate of you, Sweetie. I don't mind at all. And, with your practical experience, I think you would be the perfect person to study paradoxes."

"Just make sure you put a null field around your laboratory, Doc. You wouldn't want to release any dangerous paradoxes into the household. Considering your history, it's impossible to say what might happen. I wouldn't want Hope and Owen wiped out of existence because you managed to unmake the Bad Wolf."

Jack, who had been listening rather listlessly to the conversation, suddenly perked up. "Is that what you're trying to do, Doc?"

The Doctor shot his brother an annoyed glare. "Not as such, Captain." Appearing slightly uncomfortable, he admitted, "I, uh, was thinking more about the Mas . . . I mean, the paradox machine. There should be a way to ensure a TARDIS can't be cannibalized like she was. I know the old girl's only a Type 40, but that particular weakness affects the later models as well. With some new theoretical insights, it should be possible to create a practical application, in this case, some sort of failsafe so the ship couldn't be used that way at all."

"Could I help, or would I only get in the way?"

"I think you would be uniquely qualified to help with this, Jack. After all, you assisted me in rebuilding her."

"Then, count me in, Doc."

"Good, glad that's settled," Brax said briskly. "I hope you don't mind me intruding in your life for a few more months. Bruno told me to take as much time as I need to recuperate, and I intend to do just that."

"You'll be bored in three weeks." While Melissa hadn't gained the abilities of a seer, she knew her bond brother well enough in any regeneration to know that he didn't take well to idleness.

"If I get bored, I might be forced to steal a TARDIS. I refuse to return to my duties before having a little fun first."

The three looked at him as if he had sprouted a second head. "As long as it's not **my** TARDIS, be my guest," the Doctor remarked emphatically. He had no doubt Brax meant what he said. It seemed that after five regenerations, his brother had finally started to loosen up.

"Actually, I was thinking of stealing one of the two Battle TARDISes that have seemingly been forgotten on Earth."

There was a beat of silence, and then Melissa asked incredulously, "So, you've actually given this some thought?"

"Emma," he chided gently. "You should know me well enough by now to realize that I don't do anything spur of the moment. Of course I've been thinking about it."

Smug, Brax watched them react to that bombshell. Jack recovered from his shock first. "So, if you do decide on a vacation, any place in particular you'd like to go?"

Brax did, indeed have a destination in mind, and it wasn't exactly a vacation spot. However, he didn't see the need to share that particular piece of information. "I thought I'd put her on random. See where I turn up."

"I highly recommend random. Some of my best trips have been taken with the randomizer."

The Doctor spent the rest of dinner regaling his brother with tales of his TARDIS adventures. Many were ones that Jack and Melissa weren't familiar with, and they found themselves just as entertained as Brax. And through it all, Hope listened spellbound, soaking in every word.

* * *

><p>Dripping with sweat, Jack collapsed against the modified treadmill, pleased with his progress. After four weeks of intensive training on Gallifrey, he could cover a mile in thirty minutes, although he still depended on the forearm crutches for balance when his leg began to spasm. Before the shooting, he might have thought such a milestone pathetic, but it was undeniable progress.<p>

Moving stiffly to the weights, he added another five pounds to the load, and followed a strict routine intended to strengthen his back and arms. Then, he finished with a long set of stretches. He was determined to run before his daughter did.

Resting briefly on the bench, he failed to see his visitor enter the customized gym.

"Emma wished me to inform you that it is almost time for lunch." With a twinkle in his eye, Brax added, "Since lunch is always served at this time, I fail to see why you need the reminder."

Studying Jack's sweaty torso, the Time Lord privately applauded. Finally, Captain Harkness had begun put on weight, and it was in the form of hard muscle. His exercise regimen was almost brutal, but there was no denying the effects. The man was determined to overcome his injury.

Smiling congenially, Jack glanced at his bond brother. Gone were the leather jacket and white dress shirt of a month ago. In its place he wore a scarlet tunic with black braiding on the edge. It suited him, although he did miss the leather.

"You know I don't have a built in alarm clock in my head like you guys. Melissa's just afraid I'll forget to take a break."

"Or a shower. I wouldn't want to smell eau de Jacques during lunch."

He couldn't believe his ears. Brax was actually joking with him. While he and the Time Lord had put their differences aside when Melissa had regenerated, their relationship had been based on grudging respect rather than friendship. This was the first time he could remember the usually snide man making a joke in his presence. Granted, it was a pretty lame joke, but it was a joke nonetheless.

"Can't have that. I heard the president and Flavia are joining us. Wouldn't want to give a bad impression to Lord Bruno."

It took all of his training as a politician not to act surprised. Melissa hadn't informed him they were having guests, and the Doctor had been holed up in his laboratory all morning. What reason did the president have for visiting? And why was Flavia with him, of all people? If anyone, it was the chancellor's responsibility to accompany the president out of the citadel.

"I hope Berxie doesn't attempt to top the feast she prepared for your homecoming."

Making his way to the showers, Jack had to agree, although he bit back a smile. Lord Bruno was just an excuse to have Flavia to lunch. She and Melissa had been colluding for some time now, and this was just another step in their campaign to force the former president into a relationship.

Privately, he wished Flavia luck. Brax really needed to get laid, and by someone who had no intention of twisting a dagger in his stomach later. Having been betrayed all too often in the past, he could understand the Time Lord's reluctance. Considering Brax's extensive life span, however, his vow of perpetual indifference was unnecessarily harsh. Besides, after what that bitch Romana had done to him, Jack thought the guy deserved a little happiness.

* * *

><p>Seated next to High Lord President Bruno, the Doctor fought to keep a knowing smile off his face. His brother was too predictable, in any regeneration. He could almost see the former spymaster's brain overheat as he tried to ascertain the reason for the president's visit.<p>

"How did you find your encounter with the Matrix, Bruno?"

The young Time Lord smiled at the seasoned politician, secretly pleased that he'd convinced him to call him by his name instead of his title. "It was disconcerting, to say the least," he admitted with a nervous chuckle. "There are some very dark minds in Gallifrey's past, and I was not expecting such a strong challenge to my authority. I have no wish to return, and can only hope that there is never such a need."

"I'll second that," the Doctor agreed soberly. "The Matrix is dangerous, always has been, and it is subject to manipulation."

"Why?" Jack asked, somewhat confused. "Isn't the Matrix a repository of Time Lord knowledge? How can an encyclopedia be dangerous?"

"It's far more than an encyclopedia," Flavia warned. "The Matrix perfectly stores the consciousness of dead Time Lords, right down to the minutest detail. Denied a physical existence, many scheme to control as much as they can, including the physical world."

So that's how you people brought back that bastard. The Doc told me he had died years before, but with the Matrix, no one really dies, do they?"

Melissa tensed at the veiled reference to the Master. The platters of food suddenly looked unappealing. "There is always the possibility of revival, although it is rarely done."

The Doctor swiftly cut in, knowing how much the topic upset her. "As for no one dying, Jack, I'm afraid that during the Time War, most of the dead died permanently. Few were close enough to the Matrix to download their consciousness, and towards the end, there was no time. Everyone was too busy fighting for their own survival. It was a great loss."

Regretfully, Brax added, "Even Drocina was lost to us. By the time we were found, her consciousness had already faded."

"You were lucky not to have died yourself," Flavia remarked with feeling.

Brax stared at her thoughtfully, wondering if her comment was merely one of a concerned friend or something more. When she smiled hesitantly as he continued to stare, he smiled back. Then, she relaxed and her face transformed into a thing of beauty. Perhaps Flavia was more than a friend after all.

"There was a time in that bedroom when I would have welcomed it," he admitted ruefully. "But, I think everything turned out quite alright. I like the new me. It seems to fit."

Flavia reached over to take his hand. "I like the new you as well. You're drop dead gorgeous this time."

"Oh, really?" He'd intended to come across as sardonic, but he was all too aware that it his voice had hitched with surprise, and he had sounded pathetically needy. It didn't seem to matter, however. She merely gripped his hand all the tighter.

"Yes, really," she answered with a self-satisfied smirk. And, who could blame her; he'd been woefully blind.

Lunch ended rather quickly after that. Lord Bruno stayed for the rest of the afternoon, soliciting the Doctor, Melissa and even Jack for their advice on several sensitive issues that had been put before the High Council. He eventually left to attend a formal dinner at the Citadel.

Flavia and Brax were conspicuous by their absence. When they did return, Melissa kept her curiosity in check, knowing her friend would inform her if the afternoon had been a success. If the flower petals in her hair were any indication, it had been a very good afternoon indeed.

* * *

><p>Waking up with a scream on her lips, Melissa tried to banish the horrible nightmare from her mind. The Doctor had also woken, as upset as she. With the ease of too much practice, she gently shook Jack awake.<p>

"Sorry," he mumbled wearily, embarrassed that his subconscious fears had run amok yet again.

Belatedly, the Doctor turned on the light. He doubted anyone would sleep again that night. The image of Rassilon torturing Jack and Melissa in the Panopticon had been disturbing. "He's dead, Jack."

"Yeah? Well, tell that to my subconscious 'cause it obviously hasn't gotten the message."

"Sorry," he hastily added. He didn't want to lash out at the two people who loved him. Bad enough they invariably had their sleep interrupted by his nightmares whenever they rested together.

"No need to apologize," the Doctor reassured him. "I daresay you've woken up because of one of my nightmares on more than one occasion."

"And mine."

Melissa, being the closest, trailed her lips up Jack's chest until her mouth met his. She then did her best to make him forget about the horrid dream. Bit by bit, he relaxed, slowly willing the images to fade.

"Better?"

Gripping her hips, he drew her closer. "Much."

When the sounds of Owen's cries suddenly blared through the sonic screwdriver, the Doctor quickly offered to tend to him. Without waiting for a reply, he pressed kisses against both of them before pulling on some pajamas and hurrying out of the room.

"Huh," Jack grunted as he settled on top of her. "He volunteered for that pretty fast. Think we tired him out earlier?"

"I think it's sweet," she answered as she began to move her hips in a way that was anything but. "You know he's not quite as insatiable as we are, my Love."

"Yeah, maybe you're right."

His thoughts grew increasingly specific and distracting, and he quickly determined they could save the chitchat for later. Hungrily, he possessed her mouth, desperately needing to assure himself that she was whole and his. When his fear and apprehension drove him to an aggressive frenzy, however, she briefly worried that he had forgotten where he was. Then, he glanced down and caught her gaze. His sudden sense of guilt was worse than the emotions that had temporarily overwhelmed him. As he attempted to pull away, she wrapped her arms around him and stubbornly held him in place.

"Oh, God, I'm sorry."

Loosening her grip just a smidgen, she played with his hair. His leg chose that moment to spasm, and he collapsed heavily against her. Every muscle in his body was tensed, waiting for her condemnation, but she had no intention of giving any.

Doing her best to smile, she joked wryly. "Sweetie, you have no reason to apologize. There's no rule stating the necessity of foreplay."

"How can you joke? I practically forced—"

Her temper flared. "Don't you dare say anything of the sort, Jack Harkness. I know what it's like to be forced, and that wasn't it."

He winced; he hadn't meant to unearth old horrors. Taking note of his reaction, she took a few cleansing breaths. When she was calm once again, she rubbed his shoulders, working at the knotted muscles she found there.

"Do you think I'd just lie there if I didn't want to be with you, my Love?"

"No, I—"

Again she cut him off. "Good. So you should know that I wouldn't just passively accept Rassilon torturing me, either."

So, he'd been broadcasting strongly enough that she'd seen his dream. "Melissa—"

"Jack, if it will make you feel better, I will stuff a compact laser deluxe up my—"

It seemed to be an evening when neither was going to allow the other to finish their thoughts. He cracked a smile as he interrupted her. "Okay, okay, you win. You, Melissa Harkness, are a formidable woman who isn't going to take anything from anybody."

She smiled smugly in triumph before he added mischievously, "I have to tell you, though, Sweetheart, that concealing a compact laser deluxe where you suggested would definitely be a waste of your a—"

She kissed him just to shut him up.

"I was going to say assets," he insisted with a roguish smile.

She didn't bother with a reply.

Jack shifted so they could lie together more comfortably, although he was still draped over three-quarters of her body. She continued her massage, feeling the tension in his muscles slowly melt. Only then did she speak.

"I'd like to go into your subconscious. I might be able to counter some of the things that trigger your worst nightmares."

He opened his mouth to reject her suggestion out of hand. She would be going so deep in his psyche that he wouldn't remember what she had done. It wasn't the matter of trust that left a sick feeling in his stomach. He trusted her with his life and his love. No, it was the fear of what she might find buried deep within his mind that had him hesitating.

Except, delving into the subconscious was the exact same thing that he and the Doctor had done to her. In fact, they'd entered her subconscious several times in an attempt to ease her fears and have a better understanding of her locked memories. Her subconscious took the form of a young child, innocent, scared and alone. It had been so easy to comfort her there. Could it be that easy for him?

A little voice in his head all but screamed that it couldn't. Knowing what he put them through each time he had such vivid dreams, however, he decided he had to let her. If it didn't stop soon, he was liable to broadcast forcefully enough to affect Hope. He definitely wanted to spare his daughter such terror. His expression hardening in determination, he gave his permission.

She thought it one of the bravest things that he had ever done. He been betrayed, abandoned, belittled and shunned during his short life, and it took an incredible amount of trust to allow anyone, no matter how close, access to those things of which he was unaware.

She kissed him with such ardor that he couldn't help but sense her pride of him through the bond. "I promise to take care of you, Jack. Just lean back and relax."

He did as she asked. His life was literally in her hands.

* * *

><p>Melissa entered Jack's mindscape eagerly, curious to see what he'd chosen this time. Unlike the Doctor, whose mental image was usually an old TARDIS console room, or herself, who invariably imagined the valley of Mt. Endeavor, Jack's mindscape was always changing. The first time she had been inside his mind, they had been standing in his bunker in the Hub. Later, after they'd settled in the alternate timeline, it had been the house they had shared with Susan and Matthew. During her pregnancy, it had been the house in Barry. Today, it was the bedroom they now shared at the villa.<p>

Studying the empty room, she wondered why there were so many bedrooms in his mind. Just as she decided that was a truly stupid question, she felt a shiver of hot air on her shoulder. Then, she felt his breath as he whispered huskily in her ear.

"The Doc's right. Home isn't a location. I think of those places because you're my home, Melissa. You always have been."

Turning around, she smiled with joy to see him standing so easily before her, appearing just as he had before the shooting. "I wasn't projecting then. You heard my thoughts."

He grinned mischievously, and it dazzled her. "Well, you are in my mind, Mrs. Harkness. I may not be a Time Lord, but I will always pay close attention to you."

"Oh, Sweetie, that definitely sounds like a challenge."

"And, here I was thinking you had other things in mind."

Her smile faded. He was right; it wasn't the time for amusements. "Are you sure you're ready to do this, Jack?"

"Hell, no, but I need to do it. So, let's get it over with."

Agreeing, she concentrated, searching for the things Jack kept hidden from himself. The Captain and the bedroom faded from view. Gradually, Melissa found herself in a scorching, bleak desert. Sand dunes rolled up and down in frozen waves, and the sky was a bright, clear blue. Seeing nothing but sand, she began to walk.

It took her quite a while to encounter anything of interest. Jack's deepest fears and most troubling memories were hidden quite well. Finally, she found herself on a sandy beach, staring at a vast, calm ocean. When she turned around, she couldn't help but notice the rocky cliff face that had suddenly sprung up behind her. Caves riddled the cliff, and many of these were covered in small rockslides. Seeing nothing else of interest in the water, she made a beeline for the new feature.

Subjectively, it seemed to take forever to reach her goal, and she was winded when she finally approached the first dark cave. It was depressingly empty—so was the next, and the next, and the next. In fact, a vast majority of the caves were nothing more than dark, hollow depressions against the rock.

After searching what must have been the twentieth such bare space, she came to a grim conclusion. The two years that Jack had always described as having been stolen by the Time Agency, had, in fact, been stolen. Someone or something had scoured his mind, erasing rather than papering over a full twenty-four months, if not more. It was much more effective than the retcon Torchwood had once employed.

Staring at the massive rocks towering above her, she approached warily. While she hadn't seen a representation of Jack's subconscious mind, she had the unnatural feeling of being watched. Reaching the first blocked entrance, she tentatively reached out to touch the rocks, wondering how sturdy such a construction would be.

"What're you doing here?"

Snatching her hand back, she felt oddly guilty. A scrawny, raven-haired teenaged boy wearing the drab desert tunic and trousers of the Shanii tribe scowled menacingly at her.

"I'm trying to help," she answered calmly, wondering how Jack's psyche would react.

"Then go away," the boy shot back, arms crossed defensively in front of him. "I don't need any help."

She fought to hold back a smile. "Handling everything fine by yourself, are you?"

He glared at her, balling his fists, and she suddenly wished she hadn't taunted him. This was Jack at his most vulnerable; he needed her understanding, not her sarcasm.

"I promise to be careful, my Love."

Again, she turned her attention to the rock covered cave. When she touched it, it was stable, although she sensed immediately that it concerned Jack's childhood. She could hear a woman who could only be his mother screech that he was a useless nothing. Sympathetically, she glanced at the boy, wondering if this memory had occurred before or after the raid that had broken his family.

"Before," the boy growled unwillingly, looking like he wanted to hit her. "I like to pretend mother was perfect before, but she was always unstable. Father kept me away from her when she got really bad."

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Jack's telepathic abilities were more powerful than she had ever suspected. She would have to guard her thoughts more closely. Knowing that these were old hurts, she walked along the shore until she came to more recent rockslides against the cliff.

The teen trailed behind her, angrily kicking the sand. When she touched this set of rocks, he desperately tried to pull her arm away. "No! That's private!"

Ignoring his efforts, she willed herself to see the memory. As it began to replay, she was shocked to see the familiar image of Dr. Owen Harper. But why were he and Jack in an ordinary hospital room? Concentrating, she was enveloped by the image.

_"It's been two weeks and not one test has shown any change in brain activity. You have to accept the fact that she's gone. Her body may be breathing and her heart pumping, but she died in that restaurant."_

Damn, this was after she had confronted that bastard when he was hiding as Harold Saxon. It had almost killed her.

_Wearily, Jack snapped. "What do you want me to do, Owen, shoot her in the head?"_

_Owen snapped right back. "Fuck, no, Captain! But you can order the feeding tube removed and you can start being honest with yourself and with your kids! Their mother is gone and the sooner you acknowledge that, the sooner you can get on with your lives." _

Melissa's chest tightened. She knew that look of defeat on Owen's face only too well. She had seen it when he had discovered Joy's heart defect.

_"Look, I'm sorry, mate; I shouldn't have let my temper get the better of me. I know this is difficult; God knows I do, but you have two kids who need your help and it's time to move on."_

_"I don't want to move on, Owen. I do nothing but move on. Finally, I thought that I could have a future again. I'm not ready to give that up."_

He looked absolutely gutted, and she could feel his crushing despair. Once again, the possibility of happiness had been ripped from him.

_"Shit, Jack, no one thinks you and she got a raw deal more than I do, but what about your kids? Is it fair to keep them hoping when you know it's just a lie?"_

She couldn't watch the rest. Pulling her hand away, she was shocked by the teen's reaction. He was nose to nose with her, screaming. "You have no right! Stop it! Just stop it!"

"I can't," she answered sadly. Trusting him not to attack, she continued along the beach until she found another rock covered cave. Gathering her courage, she put out her hand.

All she saw was a white metal door. Then, the memory began, and Jack kicked it in fury, his fear all consuming.

_"Let me in, damn it, Melissa!"_

With a shuddering breath, she realized this was his memory of the Titanic.

_"Jack!" _

It was strange, hearing herself calling to him in a voice which was no longer her own. She remembered the surge of hope she'd experienced when she'd first heard him call her name, and how quickly that hope had been crushed.

_"Open the door! The teleport can't lock onto the bridge!"_

_"I can't. It's deadlock sealed and the captain's the only one with the override . . . . He's dead."_

_"Sonic it!" _

When he screamed, she could feel his throat growing raw from his effort. His foot thrummed painfully where he had taken his frustration out on the solid door, and his heart was pounding much too fast.

_"Broken. You have to leave. I'm going to put the ship into a dive to start the engines. If I don't pull up in time, the impact will create a small nuclear explosion, but the rest of the Earth will be safe."_

_"I'm not leaving without you! Do you hear me? Find a way to let me in! I can teleport us both off if you just get this door open!"_

It was almost impossible to relive the memory from his perspective. By this point, she had been resigned to her fate, secure in the knowledge that whatever happened, the people she loved would be safe. All he had known was the pain of losing her again, and the maddening knowledge that a mere six inches of metal stood in his way of saving her.

"_I love you."_

He started banging on the door again, screaming for her not to give up, and she couldn't hold back her tears. Her hearts ached to see this.

_"I'm staying with you. I won't leave you. Melissa, do you hear me? I'll be right here!"_

_"You have to, Jack. You may be immortal, but you can't help anyone if you're radioactive! You have to be around to fight the Sontarans, remember? I've been shot, Jack. I've got to do this now. I don't know how much time is left." _

She could hear her memory-self sobbing, and the effect on him was shattering to witness. All he had wanted to do at that moment was to die with her, but she'd denied him even that small comfort.

_"Promise me you'll leave. Promise me you'll take care of the kids. Promise me you'll remember."_

_"Don't do this."_

Seeing him beg, it was impossible for her to continue. She wrenched her hand away, only to become aware of the enraged teen beating his fists against her chest.

"STOP IT! STOP IT! I DON'T WANT TO SEE THAT EVER AGAIN!"

She wrapped his arms tightly around the distraught young man, and he immediately stopped fighting. Sobbing against her chest, he circled his gangly arms around her waist. Gradually, his body changed, until she was embracing a very adult Jack Harkness.

As she marveled at his resiliency, he quietly began to speak. "Stop dying. Please, Sweetheart. I don't think I can lose you again. You saved me. I can't live without you."

"Jack, I promised—"

He kissed the top of her forehead, and suddenly, she was a petite redhead bedecked in green, wearing a festive, traditional gown of the House of Arcalia. Stunned that he could affect her perceptions so easily, she gazed upwards, locking onto his eyes. They were profoundly sad.

"You never have been able to keep your promises. Not about this, Sweetheart. I've already lost this part of you. And, you're going to die forever to save him. Not that I could never blame you for that, because I would do the same in a heartbeat."

"You already have."

Her voice broke the same time she did. Barely able to focus well enough to maintain such a deep connection, she mournfully declared, "I never wanted to be your worst nightmare. I've never meant to hurt you."

"Don't. It's not your fault. Losing you is my greatest fear because I love you so much."

Holding onto him, she once again appeared as her current self, kinky ringlets and all. He was right. Her promise that he'd die first was nothing more than a hope. And, hope alone could not combat his fear.

"I'm sorry. You're right. I can't promise; I can only try." Then, she willed the images of the Doctor, Owen and Hope onto the beach. "But, you never need fear being alone, Jack. Even if I die, you'll always have part of me in them."

"I don't want you to die at all."

"I don't plan to." She managed a wry smile. "Kiss me, my Love. I think I need an incentive for sweet dreams."

Matching her expression, he cupped her cheek. "Well, I never could resist a request from such a beautiful Time Lady."

She fell willingly into his trap, wickedly licking her lips. "Jack, how many times have I told you that I'm no lady?"

"Prove it," he challenged. And, she did.

* * *

><p>The Doctor stole into the bedroom an hour later. Weeks ago, he'd guessed the underlying cause of the Captain's new nightmares. How could he not, when they so perfectly mirrored his own? Now, it was profoundly satisfying to see his bond mates deeply asleep, wrapped in each other's arms. At least Jack had taken the comfort she had to offer. Time Lord could only hope that she could keep her promise to outlive the human they loved so much.<p>

Lying next to Jack and Melissa in the dark, he knew it was unlikely he would be granted the same hope. It was a harsh truth, but her death was fixed, and barring some reckless action on his part, he was bound to experience it once more. Only this time, knowing who she was, it would hurt so much worse. In a way, he was jealous of the Captain's chance to leave before knowing the heartbreak of her loss.

Worse yet was the knowledge that he would lose them both. Even without the hazards of Torchwood, Jack's potential lifespan was woefully short compared to his. Again, he berated himself for wasting so much time. It seemed he didn't appreciate anything properly until it was slipping away. He vowed not to make that mistake with Hope or Owen.

Resigned to several hours of staring at the ceiling as his thoughts grew increasingly morose, he was startled when Melissa reached over Jack to lay her hand on his chest.

"Thank you. I think he needed this." Then, before he could reply, she added softly, "And, I'm sorry, Doctor, that you will lose both of us. It isn't fair."

"It's not," he quickly agreed. "But whoever said life had to be fair?" He finished with an upbeat grin. "Besides, right now, it's brilliant."

Agreeing, she patted his chest before turning over and nestling against Jack once again.

When Jack woke, he remembered nothing that had happened in his subconscious. But, he felt more refreshed than he had in weeks. His nightmares lessened to the point of infrequency. The Doctor, however, continued to experience his own. Unfortunately, he was much more accomplished at hiding them than Jack.

As the months passed, and the children grew, however, even the Doctor's nightmares diminished. It was difficult to be gloomy when Hope was in the room, and he doted over Owen as he developed at a slower pace. Jack replaced his crutches with a sturdy cane, although he still walked with a pronounced limp. And, Melissa was so happy that he could feel her contentment through the bond. With so much to enjoy in the present, it was easy to ignore the troubling certainties of the future.


	33. Pain and Rage

Author's Notes - The chapter introduces the final twist of the story. I had intended this from the beginning, and hope it seems plausible. To me, this story has always been about the actions of the Bad Wolf, and I would like to explore that theme and finally put it to rest. Let me know what you think. Thanks to **dwatlaskrhtcm** and **uzumaki misaki** for the kind reviews; you can thank them for the quick update.

* * *

><p>"Oh, it's more beautiful than I imagined. I never thought I'd see this."<p>

Sarah Jane gushed as she stepped out of the TARDIS. The Doctor had deliberately landed in the gardens, the better to impress his former companion who had been denied a chance to see his home so long ago.

"It is amazing," Martha agreed as she and Mickey followed on her heels.

Spring in the garden was truly remarkable. The red grass appeared pink in the dew, and the beds of white irises swirled through the lawn like a drunken candy cane.

"Showoff," Donna whispered in the Doctor's ear, knowing full well that he had deliberately landed in such a picturesque setting on purpose.

"Of course." He laughed back, almost inebriated with happiness. It wasn't every day his son turned one.

Gwen and Rhys followed closely behind Donna, their son Jack napping in his sturdy stroller. "It is gorgeous," Gwen earnestly agreed, doing her best to impersonate an owl as she vainly tried to take everything in at once. "Just look at this, Rhys. It's a bloody alien planet."

"I can see that, love."

Rhys was somewhat overwhelmed, and definitely out of his depth, but the presence of so many familiar faces kept him from babbling like an idiot. When he saw his son's namesake approaching, however, he couldn't keep the amazement out of his voice.

"Look at you, mate! You're looking fit, and down to using a cane. Guess I'll have to keep my eye on Gwen this weekend."

"Oi!" Gwen slapped him on the arm in mock outrage before squeezing Jack so hard in an embrace that he feared his ribs might pop. "I'll have you know that Jack can be a perfect gentleman when he chooses to be."

The Captain smirked mischievously. Although Melissa had taken Owen to see Martha for regular checkups, he hadn't returned to Earth since leaving all those months ago. It was time to assure his friends that he was perfectly fine.

"I think that's Gwen's way of saying I never shagged her."

Mickey snorted. It seemed Captain Cheesecake was again living up to his nickname. Rhys feigned outrage before surprising everyone and teasing right back. Possessively, he rested his hand on Gwen's bottom.

"Well, you definitely missed out there, Harkness."

"Rhys!"

Gwen's voice was enough to wake up her son, who looked around in confusion before starting to cry. After quieting down, she held him out to introduce him to Jack.

"I'd like you to meet Jack Ianto Williams. He's ten months and looks just like Rhys' baby pictures."

Jack smiled at the child, quickly making his acquaintance before returning the now contented boy to his mother. "He's beautiful, Gwen. Although, why you had to saddle him with the name Jack, I'll never know."

Martha saw the perfect opportunity. "Does that mean you're becoming humble in your old age, Jack?"

That sparked a definite round of ribbing about age. The Doctor ended up bearing the brunt of it. Laughing, everyone walked towards the house at their own pace, happily chatting about all the new developments in their lives.

* * *

><p>"Hope, do not stick your finger in that icing. Those cupcakes are for the party."<p>

The raven-haired child guiltily pulled her finger back before making doe-eyes at her mother. At thirteen months, she had the height of a child thrice her age, and the intelligence that would put Einstein's to shame. Like any child, however, she had a difficult time with impulse control.

"And, do not look at me like that, young lady. I know how much you like icing, but those are for your brother's party. You'll have your own party come summer."

Orbiting twin suns, Gallifrey's year was longer than that of Earth's. Although technically older, Hope had not yet turned one. Because Owen was human, his parents had decided to mark the anniversary of his emergence from the artificial womb by Earth's standards.

"Yes, Mother. Do you think Owen will appreciate the present I picked out for him?"

"I think he will like the wooden blocks very much. It was a very thoughtful gift."

The little girl continued to watch her mother in the kitchen. Although Berxie and her staff had gone to great lengths to prepare a sumptuous feast of both Earth and Gallifreyan dishes, Melissa had insisted on making the cupcakes, three hundred in all. One hundred people had been invited to the party, but knowing a Time Lord's penchant for sweets, she had tripled the total, and instructed the head cook to create an additional dessert befitting the occasion.

Shaking the rainbow sprinkles that her mother had purchased on Earth, Hope decided a new ploy was necessary. The cupcakes looked too scrumptious to sit untouched for another two to three hours.

"Mother?"

"Yes, dear?" Distracted by the job of smearing icing on so many cupcakes, Melissa listened with only half an ear.

"Does Owen know how to count?"

"Hope, you know your brother can't even say your name. Of course he can't count."

"Will he remember his birthday party?"

"No, little one, Owen's brain has not developed enough for him to remember this party. The next one, perhaps."

Hope watched her mother smear more cupcakes with white icing. "Mother?"

"Hmm?"

"Since Owen can't count and he won't remember his birthday, I don't think he would mind if I took a cupcake now. Only having two hundred ninety-eight cupcakes on the table shouldn't make much difference since Lady Berxie has prepared several cloudberry trifles. And, I promise it won't spoil my lunch."

Melissa looked up to see her daughter smiling with an impish grin. The girl quickly schooled her expression into one of earnest pleading, and she had to bite back a laugh. Jack had to be giving her lessons; that was the only plausible explanation for her ability to successfully charm every adult she met.

"You may have a cupcake if you explain why you said two hundred ninety-eight instead of two hundred ninety-nine."

"Father took one with him when he went to Earth. He didn't wait for the icing."

Counting to ten, Melissa handed Hope a cupcake and then suggested she play outside. Really, that man was going to be the death of her. How many times had she told him to wait until the party?

No matter, the guests would not be counting, and Owen was too young to remember this day. That was the only reason she had consented to inviting so many people. In addition to their friends from Earth, Brax and Flavia would be in attendance, as well as the High Lord President, all of their household retainers who were not working the party, several families whose estates bordered theirs, the rest of the High Council, and a smattering of young ones who had had the courage to befriend them.

Concentrating as she tried to make the remaining icing adequately cover the last dozen, Melissa was surprised when Sarah Jane came from behind and hugged her tightly.

"You are looking wonderful. Gallifrey must suit you."

Beaming, she hugged right back. "It is home, and I am not ashamed to admit liking it. Even the Doctor feels more peaceful here, and Jack has made remarkable progress."

"He has, hasn't he? I know you had told me his walking had improved, but I had no idea that he was no longer using the crutches."

"He's not just walking," she proudly informed her friend. "He can run now as well, although it takes more out of him than we would like."

At that point, Gwen and Martha made their way into the kitchen, explaining that the rest had stayed outside to play with Hope. They spent several minutes catching up on gossip as Melissa finished icing the cupcakes. By then, guests had started trickling in, and she wiped her hands on her apron and entrusted to Berxie the logistics of transporting that many sweets to the tables outside.

"I'm going to wake up Owen. Would you like to come?"

The three women immediately agreed, although Martha seemed somewhat confused. "I thought he didn't nap in the mornings?"

"He began three weeks ago," Melissa informed the physician. "In fact, he sleeps for almost two hours in the morning and two in the afternoon. Believe it or not, I usually have to wake him."

"Bet your nights are awful."

Walking as she spoke, the Time Lord shook her head. "You'd think so, but he's been sleeping more at night as well. All that growing must be tiring him out."

Gwen was quick to comment. "You're lucky. If Jack sleeps late in the afternoon, he's up by four in the morning ready to play. It's a good thing I don't have to go into work. I'd be a right mess."

"I've always wondered what it would be like to have a baby." Sarah Jane spoke without a hint of wistfulness in her voice, but with Luke at university, she'd begun to regret some of her life decisions yet again.

"It's exhausting, yeah?" Gwen answered with a gap-toothed grin. "When I'm up with him in the middle of the night, I sometimes think I'd prefer a Weevil attack, but then he smiles at me and I think my heart will melt. There's just something about babies . . . ."

Reaching into the cot, Melissa privately agreed. There was something wonderful about babies. Gently, she shook Owen awake. The child slowly opened his eyes, and then his face split into a happy smile as he recognized who was bending over him. In contented babbles, he gestured for her to pick him up.

Cuddling him against her, she felt his arms tightening into fist as he attempted to return the hug with all his might. Laughing, she introduced him to Sarah Jane. The child was bashful, hiding his face against Melissa as he snuck quick looks at the three strange women in the room. Although Martha was his physician, it had been three months since his last visit, and he was too young to remember her from such a long time ago.

By the time his mother had him changed and dressed in a blue and white sailor suit, he had warmed to the new people and was squealing in glee as Martha and he played a game of peek-a-boo.

Walking into the den, Melissa handed him off to Jack and watched him become shy in front of strangers once more. After a brief chat with Donna, she raced to her bedroom to change into a pair of brown slacks and an ornately embroidered green tunic. Most of the Time Lords would be wearing something similar; this was a casual party and not a time for robes or festive dresses.

* * *

><p>By the lack of noise, Melissa determined that her family and friends must have joined the festivities outside. She had arranged for Punch and Judy type puppet shows for the children, since most of them were six months younger than Hope. There were also plenty of shiny metallic balloons, bubbles and colored chalk near the stone patio, which were especially meant to entertain Owen.<p>

The diversions apparently entertained grown Time Lords as well. Grinning, Melissa watched the Doctor dip a particularly large bubble wand into the soapy liquid and then rapidly spin around and around, releasing a storm of large bubbles into the air. He had a group of eleven children chasing them, their hands gleefully outstretched as they attempted to pop them all before they could reach the ground.

Seeking out Owen, she was surprised he wasn't in the fray until she noticed that he and Jack were sitting quietly together at the end of the patio playing with brightly colored wooden blocks. Taking time to greet everyone in her path, she made her way over to the birthday boy.

"I thought he'd be where the action is," she said by way of greeting, kissing Jack on the cheek as she did so.

"Hope wanted to give him his present early, and he doesn't seem all that interested in running around with the other kids right now."

Hearing his mother's voice, the boy looked up and smiled before returning to his blocks. Jack helped him stack them until they wobbled, and then Owen took great delight in knocking them down. Then, father and son repeated the process.

Looking on, Melissa frowned. The bright light of the noontime suns revealed what had been all too easy to overlook in the bedroom. Owen had deep, dark circles under his brown eyes, and his skin was paler than she would have liked to see.

"Does he seem unwell at all to you, Jack?"

"No." Taking a closer look at his son, he amended, "Well, maybe. I mean, he's usually doing his best to keep up with big sister, but Hope's watching that puppet show. Do you think he's teething again?"

"Not enough drool. Maybe he's coming down with a cold."

Knowing what she would ask before she asked it, Jack kissed Owen's forehead. "Well, if he is, he's not running a fever, Sweetheart. I'll keep him with me, but he should be fine until the end of the party."

As if to prove Jack correct, Owen caught sight of the Doctor holding several blue balloons in the air and jumped up to run towards him.

"See, nothing to worry about."

Giving her husband a hand up, Melissa quickly agreed. Then, she ambled towards the food tents to mingle with more of her guests.

* * *

><p>"<em>Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday dear Owen. Happy birthday to you."<em>

Delighted for the moment to be the center of attention, Owen grinned when the crowd finished the birthday song. Then, he completely forgot about the presence of so many people as Melissa handed him an iced chocolate cupcake on a plate. Hesitantly at first, his fingers scooped up the icing. Touching the sugary treat with his tongue, his smile became one of pure bliss, and he quickly shoved the entire handful into his mouth. Time Lords weren't the only species to appreciate the wonders of sugar.

Foregoing dessert, Brax strode across the tent to chat with his bond sister. Absentmindedly, he patted his favorite nephew on the head. The boy ignored him in favor of his new treat.

"It appears a fun time is being had by all. Even Chancellor Amathow seems to be enjoying himself."

Melissa groaned under her breath. They had had no desire to invite that unpleasant man, but it would have been too much of an insult to exclude a member of the High Council. It infuriated her in the extreme to see him eating a cupcake she herself had prepared.

"I hope he chokes on it."

Brax managed to stifle his guffaw, although it ended up as a loud snort. "None of us are that lucky. Bruno did ask me to tell you it was extremely kind to invite him knowing you would have to invite the rest of the Council as well."

"Yes, it was," she emphatically agreed before they switched topics.

Pausing to watch Owen make a mess of the cake portion of the cupcake, Brax scowled. "What type of mischief has my nephew run afoul now? His right arm is purple with bruises."

"He fell on it when he tried running after Hope near the pavilion. Finally getting old, Brax? You and Flavia were there, remember?"

"Emma, that was eight days ago."

Startled, she thought back. "Yes, it was. Well, it can't possibly be the same bruises, then. Who knows? Now that he's walking, he follows Hope like a puppy dog. You should see some of the tumbles he takes just trying to keep up. I'm surprised he's not black and blue all over."

He answered noncommittally. "Is that right?"

Thinking he was encouraging her, she gave her bond brother a rundown of her children's latest exploits. Owen inadvertently rescued him a few minutes later when he grabbed Melissa's tunic with greasy, chocolate fingers. She quickly excused herself to change them both.

* * *

><p>Several hours later, Melissa sat in the den with her friends and family, chatting about the success of the party, and catching up with their lives. Owen had fallen asleep as she had changed tunics that afternoon, and was still napping in his room almost four hours later. Hope was in her science lab after the Doctor had removed anything that could explode, and little Jack slept soundly in his stroller. It had been months since Melissa had been solely in the company of adults, and she enjoyed it immensely.<p>

"So, Martha, Mickey, how goes the freelancing?"

"Not bad, boss. Sarah Jane's been giving us pointers, and UNIT's turning a blind eye."

"He's right. I was afraid UNIT might try to make me go back, but they haven't. Mostly, they ignore us, although we had to call them in last week when we found a nest of Venusian vipers in Bath. We needed their containment facility."

Gwen, who had faced those venomous creatures before, was suitably impressed. They were soon comparing notes on the various threats they had faced. Jack offered some of his more harrowing missions from the Time Agency. Sarah Jane detailed her two encounters with the Trickster. For some reason, most of the Doctor's stories that evening focused on the Nestene conscious.

Melissa listened contentedly, studying everyone in the room. Her bond brother's reticence was in character, and it was no surprise that Flavia kept quiet. Brax never spoke of his work at the Celestial Intervention Agency, and Flavia hadn't been off world except for those thirty odd years on the parallel Earth. Donna, however, was unusually silent, and the Time Lord attempted to draw her into the conversation.

"Why don't you tell them about the Ood, Donna?"

Startled out of her thoughts, her friend looked up at the sound of her name. "Sorry, I was thinking about Lee."

"Oh ho! Who's the mystery man?"

Donna opened her mouth to answer Martha's question, but the Doctor loudly interrupted, making it clear that the subject wasn't a welcome one. "Anyway, it's getting late. Maybe it's time I was getting everyone home."

Donna glanced apologetically at Melissa before nodding. "Yeah, that sounds like a good idea, Spaceman. I don't like leaving Mum alone with Gramps for this long. She doesn't let the nurses help as much as she should."

"Us too," Rhys agreed. "Jack should be in bed, or else Gwen's going to be up all night. Besides, if it snows like it's supposed to, I'll be busy rerouting deliveries for the next few days."

Sensing that the evening was ending on an awkward note, Sarah Jane stood and smiled. "Thank you, Doctor, for finally allowing me to see Gallifrey. It's just as magnificent as I had imagined."

Her expression of gratitude prompted a wave of thank you's, goodbyes, and heartfelt hugs. In the midst of it all, Brax announced his intention to stay the night. Flavia seemed surprised by his decision and took her leave. Jack offered to accompany the Doctor in the TARDIS, but Melissa pointed out that it was his night to read to Hope, so he gave everyone another hug before calling his daughter to the library.

Finding herself alone, Melissa took a minute to appreciate the silence and reflect on the day. The party had been a tremendous success, but it was the look of wonder on Owen's face as he had tasted fluffy buttercream icing for the first time that she would always treasure. Seeing her friends from Earth had been a special treat. She missed being a regular part of their lives, but the time she'd spent away from them hadn't seemed to matter as they'd laughed together.

Most of the Time Lords she'd invited, including the President, had taken the presence of a half dozen humans in stride. In fact, the younger ones had been just as eager to hear about their lives as she had. A few had gone so far as to request regular correspondence from Donna and Sarah Jane. While it had been phrased to suggest such contact was meant for a research project, it had been all too obvious that the students missed their adopted planet, especially the food. The cupcakes had disappeared from the dessert table in record speed.

Smiling at the thought, she wondered if Berxie would be interested in opening an Earth style bakery in the nearby village.

* * *

><p>Tiptoeing into the nursery a few minutes later, Melissa found Owen frowning in his sleep. She placed her hand on his cheek to soothe him from his nightmare, only to pull it back in shock as she felt the heat of his skin. Turning him onto his back, she noted that his cheeks were far too rosy, and his hair was damp, flattened against his skull. Bending down, a kiss to his forehead confirmed the fever; it was nearly thirty-nine degrees Celsius. No wonder he was frowning.<p>

She had him changed into his night clothes before he was fully awake. When he finally did gaze up, his eyes were glassy. The fever made him fussy, and he whined petulantly as she finished snapping the fastenings to his cotton pajamas. He continued to whimper as he voiced his displeasure with the entire situation.

Sitting in the rocking chair near his cot, Melissa tenderly patted Owen's back in the same rhythm as she rocked. The child settled around her, resting his head against her left breast as if it were nothing more than a comfortable pillow. As the gentle back and forth motion continued, he gradually quieted, falling asleep in her arms.

Watching him sleep, she fought against her irrational fears. Owen was subject to fevers, so much so that he had suffered febrile seizures as an infant. While they had been terrifying, no lasting harm had been done, and it was foolish to believe he would never take sick. He was human; they were constantly fighting off viruses and bacteria and a host of microscopic organisms. Her child was no different.

Still, she couldn't help but worry, especially when he woke an hour later, his cries of hunger shrill and demanding. Only, after a few sucks, he refused to nurse. She guessed his throat was raw from the thick, yellow mucus that clogged his nose. Kissing him again, she found that his fever had risen rapidly. It was now forty instead of thirty-nine. Taking him screaming into the kitchen, she wished her hearing wasn't quite so acute.

"He's decidedly not happy, Emma. Did he have a nightmare?"

"Fever," she answered shortly, not bothering to ask Brax what he had been searching for in the pantry. Before her bond brother had a chance to reply, Jack walked into the spacious room, drawn there by Owen's crying.

"What's wrong with Owen?"

"A fever," she repeated as the boy continued to scream.

Her response by then had a touch of panic to it. Wrapping his arm around her waist, he kissed her cheek. "He'll be fine, Melissa. He always is. Besides, Brax is here."

Brax was already on her other side, medical scanner in hand. Melissa was too focused on Owen to notice that Brax's face became a mask as he studied the readings, but Jack caught it and wondered at the odd reaction.

"It's a simple virus, Emma, most probably a cold. Why don't I give him something for the fever and sore throat and Jack can fix him some juice. He needs to stay hydrated and get plenty of rest, but he should be fine. Once he's feeling better, I can give him a more thorough exam at the Citadel infirmary. There's no reason to bother Martha for a check-up. Most of my time with Doctors Without Borders was spent practicing pediatrics."

Relieved, she answered appreciatively. "I don't know why we didn't think of that before, Brax. You're the perfect physician for him since you know Time Lord illnesses as well."

By then, her bond brother's face was a study in pleasantness, and he replied easily. "It simply didn't occur to me that you weren't using a local healer. Today is the first time I understood that Martha Jones was his physician."

"It was an excuse to visit as much as it was a necessity."

Radiating calm, Brax shooed everyone back into Owen's room so he could give the birthday boy something to soothe his throat and bring down his fever. After a cup of juice, the sick child again snuggled against his mother's chest, worn out from the day's activities as much as his illness.

When the Time Lord excused himself from the nursery, the Captain accompanied him. The villa was quiet; the Doctor had given everyone he could the day off, and the rest had left as soon as the cleanup had been completed. The hallways were dark, and even Berxie had left for home.

Waiting until they had traversed the hall to another wing of the house, Jack finally confronted the dark-eyed man before him. "Okay, Brax, you need to tell me what the hell is going on and if I should be worried."

Searching his eyes, the Time Lord deflated. "I see I was not as careful with my reaction as I had intended."

"That's putting it mildly. Now, are you going to tell me what's wrong?"

"I can't."

"Can't or won't?"

Strangely indecisive, he paced the hall before running his fingers unthinkingly through his black, spiky hair in perfect imitation of his brother.

"It would be better if the healers explain it to you all at once. And, I'd like a second opinion before coming to any conclusions."

Jack leaned heavily on his stark cane. Something must be horribly wrong. His voice was heavy with pent-up emotion when he spoke.

"How bad is it?"

Seeing the Captain's reaction, Brax felt vindicated. It would be best to explain it to all of them in a calm, clinical setting where they were unlikely to jump to conclusions. "I won't insult you by trying to convince you it is nothing, but it is treatable with our level of technology."

"Shit." He leaned against the wall, fearful that neither leg would support him. Treatable with our level of technology—did that imply it was not treatable with human technology? What the hell was wrong with his son?

He felt a hand on his shoulder. "I said treatable, Captain. In less than two weeks, Owen will be his normal, healthy, rambunctious self. Please believe me when I say that."

Nodding, he did his best to put memories of Joy's brief struggle for life out of his mind. "I'm going to hold you to that, you know."

"No more than two weeks, Jack. I promise." He just hoped it was a promise he could keep. Some of the readings had been disturbing in the extreme.

* * *

><p>Thirty-seven hours later, the Doctor, Melissa, Jack and Brax wearily sat in the cramped office of the Chief Healer of Gallifrey. Owen currently slept in the Citadel's infirmary as a team of senior healers treated him for a particularly nasty bout of pneumonia. Hope was in Flavia's chambers, giving the usual tranquil woman an acute tension headache as she incessantly demanded to know what was wrong with her brother.<p>

His parents were keen to find that out as well, but Healer Galan was now eight minutes late for their appointment. Melissa glared daggers at anyone who was foolish enough to catch her eye, and Brax actually fidgeted in his seat. He had been consulting with the healer throughout Owen's sickness. He knew the delay must be for a reason—and not likely a good one.

His blue robes billowing behind him, Healer Galan swept into his office, his very appearance exuding authority. From his well-groomed white hair to the keen intelligence in his piercing blue eyes, he radiated confidence.

"I apologize for the delay. We determined that it would be best for your son to receive supplemental oxygen while the anti-viral treatments are being administered. It was a routine precaution, but it took longer than necessary due to his size. I'm afraid we aren't used to having pediatric patients in the Citadel's infirmary."

"Does that mean his breathing is worse?"

Sitting down in the chair behind his desk, the healer studied the man before him. The human seemed to be as conceited as he had heard. How dare he question his decision? "As I said, we deemed it best."

The Doctor put his hand on Jack's right leg, urging him to be silent. Healer Galan was not known to appreciate interruptions. Then, as a preventative measure, he surreptitiously gripped Melissa's left hand. He sat between them in the vain hope to keep both their tempers in check.

The healer and Brax noticed the gestures. Brax tensed, anticipating his bond sister's reaction when she realized exactly what he had been concealing about Owen's illness. Galan, however, continued to speak, placated by the Doctor's actions.

"As I was saying, we placed the child on oxygen. The anti-viral therapies are successfully ridding his body of the infection. Unfortunately, his recovery is being slowed by his weakened immune system and low levels of hemoglobin."

The Doctor gripped Melissa and Jack tightly. This was the first time they had heard that Owen was suffering from anything other than the pneumonia. They waited with sick feelings of dread for the healer to continue.

Galan spoke as if he were reading from a particularly boring textbook. "The boy is experiencing abnormal development and growth of both the lymphoid cells and myeloid cells. His functioning immune system is almost nonexistent at this point, and his red blood cell count is twenty percent lower than normal. Considering the amount of radiation he has been exposed to, it is not surprising that this occurred, although the rate of mutation is particularly acute. He has been placed in a sterile environment to prohibit the invasion of anymore infections. Once the pneumonia has cleared, I recommend stem cell therapy using the recombined DNA of his biological parents in order to obtain the fastest result. Unless, of course, you stored his umbilical cord blood?"

Not trusting herself to speak, Melissa squeezed the Doctor's hand until it was white. Jack, however, reacted immediately. "What the hell are you talking about? Owen has never been exposed to radiation!"

Galan leaned back in his chair, annoyed that anyone, especially this human, would dare question him. Brax quickly explained when he would not. "Owen's body is steeped in very high levels of Void radiation."

"That's impossible," Melissa maintained, her hands trembling. "We only traveled through the Void twice while I was pregnant, and we were shielded by the TARDIS both times."

Galan opened his mouth in shock. "What do you mean, you traveled through the Void? Such actions are prohibited without the permission of the High Council." Eyes narrowing, he accused, "What did you do, Emissary?"

Smoothly, Brax interjected. "You are not here to question her actions, Healer Galan, but to discuss the best method of treatment for her son. Might I remind you that you are bound by your healer's oath not to reveal anything you discover during the course of your duties."

Melissa ignored her bond brother. She didn't care at this point what Galan might or might discover. It was crucial he be informed so he could treat Owen properly. "I crossed the Void in a TARDIS to reside on a parallel world for five weeks in order to confuse the High Council as to the timing of my pregnancy."

After a second of silence, the healer put the pieces together. "Your pregnancy was a direct result of the Bad Wolf after all. That is a very dangerous game you played, Emissary. You are truly fortunate that the current President is your protégé, or the consequences might have been . . . unpleasant."

The Doctor couldn't contain himself any longer. "Regardless of your feelings on this matter, Lord Galan, I trust you will keep such information to yourself. Now, if you don't mind. I'd like to know if Owen's condition could be a result of staying on a parallel world for such a short amount of time in utero."

"Of course not, Lord Doctor, nor would two trips through the Void cause such readings, even in that relic you call a TARDIS." Seeing the glares directed towards him, he snapped, "Don't be dense. It's logical to assume you accompanied her, Lord Doctor. Everyone on Gallifrey is aware of the brain damage the Emissary suffered while correcting her original negligence during the Final Moment. Someone else would have had to make the calculations, and it's a well-known fact that you are first and foremost a renegade."

Jack fumed. Not only had the arrogant asshole blamed Melissa for Gallifrey's initial destruction and insulted the Doctor, he seemed to have forgotten the entire reason they were sitting in his office. "And your attitude helps my son, how?"

Brax wanted to applaud. Trust Jack to cut to the chase.

"It does not," the healer admitted, grimacing at the thought of being lectured by one of the lesser species. "No matter how the child was exposed to so much Void radiation, the fact remains that it has negatively impacted his health. As I said, once the pneumonia responds to treatment, we will destroy his bone marrow and replace it with an exact copy, created from the DNA of his biological parents. I assume you to be the father?"

"Well, as I'm the only human in your office, Galan, I think you assume correctly."

"Very good," he ground out, wondering how much Chancellor Amathow would pay for the information he had just uncovered. "I will need blood from both of you, so the healers can create an exact copy of the child's own stem cells. Normally, we could harvest his, but the mutation is occurring at such a phenomenal rate, that I don't think it wise to try. If just one mutated cell were to be in the mix, we would be in the exact same situation in another year's time."

Jack and Melissa were more than willing. Within twenty minutes, they were sitting in the lab donating a pint each so the healers could split and splice their genes in order to make a perfect DNA match to Owen's stem cells. Once they were finished, they walked hand in hand to their son's infirmary room.

They were forced to go through a sonic decontamination field before entering in order to keep the room sterile. Most of the healers had left for a meal break, so it was possible to stand by his side without worrying about getting in the way. Owen appeared to be asleep, but smiled weakly when Melissa and Jack each kissed him on the cheek.

Swallowing a hard lump in her throat, Melissa gently held his hand. "Hello, my brave boy. When this is all over Mommy and your daddies are going to take you on a picnic in the Valley. You'll be able to chase after your sister, and catch bubbles, and feed the minnows that live near the falls, and you can eat all the chocolate icing you want. How does that sound, little one?"

He didn't answer, having already fallen asleep. Leaning against Jack, she sobbed silently against his chest. Clasping her tightly to him, he did his best not to fall to pieces. She didn't cry in this regeneration; if anything fury was her emotion of choice. To see her so reduced shook him to his core.

"He's going to get better."

"Of course he is," she vowed, some of her innate passion once again rising to the surface. "And don't let anyone tell you differently."

Resting against the other, they watched Owen breathe with the help of the extra oxygen.

"How will they destroy his abnormal cells? Radiation? Chemo?"

"Nothing so painful," she promised. "Basically, they'll inject him with a genetically engineered retrovirus. It will search for the defective cells and kill them. His blood will be mechanically filtered during that time to remove the dead cells, and he'll be lightly sedated so he stays calm. It should take no longer than four hours before he's ready to undergo the stem cell infusion. Another four and his body should be making blood cells on its own. A week after that, and you won't be able to tell it had even happened."

"I should have known that masters of genetic engineering would have a little thing like cancer beat."

"It's not that impressive. You know that most cancers are no more than old tales to frighten children into eating their vegetables by the fifty-first century, Jack."

"Yeah, but even the Time Agency isn't capable of treating the aggressive forms of cancer which can occur due to overexposure to the Time Vortex. I can't imagine Void radiation can be any better."

As they continued their whispered conversation, the Doctor entered the room, coming up behind them and embracing them both. "Brax explained the procedure. In a seven day, he'll be playing outside."

"Doesn't make today any less terrifying, Doc."

"Of course it does, Captain. It gives us all something to look forward to. Do you suppose Owen would like the zoo on Arrunkle? It has a very nice woolly mammoth in the petting area, and they let you ride the trained brontosaurus."

"We're going on a picnic in the valley. Owen's going to feed the blue minnows and eat chocolate icing."

The corner of his mouth briefly upturned as he kissed her shoulder. "A picnic sounds very nice, Em. I know he and Hope will enjoy it."

* * *

><p>A half hour later, they were still standing by Owen's bed when a very grim Irving Braxiatel motioned for them to come into the hallway. "We have encountered an unforeseen complication. Follow me."<p>

Silently, they followed him into the main laboratory, which was unusually empty. Apprehensive, they watched him lock the door with a deadlock seal and then activate a static wave field throughout the room.

"No one can hear us, although I'm afraid the damage has been done."

Jack couldn't stand the tension. "Have you finally gone insane, or have you honestly forgotten how much I hate it when you get cryptic?"

Still trying to process the damning information he now possessed, Brax blinked stupidly at Jack. "Sorry, it's a bit much for even me to take in, and I've seen the proof."

"Just get on with it!"

Melissa's harangue snapped him back to his senses. "Yes, of course." Taking a deep breath, he spared them nothing. "There is a problem with Owen's treatment because neither you, Emma, nor you, Captain Harkness, are Owen's biological parents."

"WHAT?"

Melissa's screech threatened to overwhelm the static wave generator, and the Doctor's and Jack's demands for explanations weren't much softer.

Holding up his hand, Brax tried to remain calm. Your DNA proves it. Take a look."

Disbelieving, Melissa looked into the DNA analyzer, comparing her sample and Jack's to Owen's. When she finally raised her head, her face was as grim as her bond brother's. "Doctor, prick your finger."

Obediently, he provided her with a drop of his blood, which she dabbed onto a piece of glass. Positioning it under a machine that was close to the size of an old fashioned typewriter with the capacity to make visible a single strand of DNA, she peered at the Doctor's blood, pursing her lips.

"Well?"

Without looking up, she said flatly, "Congratulations, it's a boy."

"Am I both mother and father?" he managed to ask, images of Jenny dying in his arms yet again at the forefront of his mind.

"No. The maternal DNA is unknown." Looking up, her eyes were cold and distant, and her bond mates had no insight to her thoughts or emotional state. "Jack, teleport to the TARDIS. Go into Rose's old room. See if you can find a hairbrush, toothbrush, anything that might have a sample of her DNA. Bring it back, quickly."

Jack, however, did no such thing. He was simply too stunned to react. "I'm not the father?" he repeated, suddenly not sure of his hearing or his sanity.

It was the Doctor who comforted him. "I'm so, so sorry, Captain. I never wanted it to be this way."

Melissa leveled her icy gaze on the both of them, barking out commands like one of the Furies. "Get a hold of yourselves, both of you! Owen is still lying in the infirmary with pneumonia. And, he's going to die if you two act like idiots now. Doctor, I need a sample of Hope's blood. We made too many assumptions during my pregnancy, and I will not tolerate any more surprises."

Straightening, Jack gave her a crisp nod before leaving the room to activate his Vortex Manipulator.

Leveling a long look at his wife, the Doctor acknowledged her concern. "I'll do it in Flavia's quarters and bring it back to you. No one need question why she might be in the lab. Picking up a blood extraction kit, he left silently, wondering when Melissa's brittle shell of rage would crack, exposing the brokenness within.

Left alone with her bond brother, Melissa put her hand to her side, unconsciously searching for a weapon. "How many people know of this?"

"Three. However, the two lab technicians both had children sheltering on Arcadia. They volunteered to have their memories altered."

"And the third?"

"Galan."

"I fear he will be dangerous in the extreme."

"I share your concern."

They regarded each other appraisingly. Brax was perhaps the only one who understood the look of cold calculation on her face. He had seen its mirror all too often on a different body in a different time. She had worn just such a measured, yet chilling, mask as she clinically reported the actions she had taken to complete her wartime missions for the CIA. She had been one of his best agents during the Time War, and definitely the most ruthless, until she had suffered her own personal crisis of faith.

Softening his tone, he promised, "I'll take care of it."

"I know you will," she replied evenly. Then, she pretended to take more measurements with the DNA analyzer. She couldn't bear to see the compassion in his eyes.

* * *

><p>"Well?"<p>

"Rose is Owen's biological mother."

The Doctor walked into the lab with a sample of Hope's blood just as Melissa announced the results to Jack. Uncharacteristically, he had no idea what to say. He didn't even know how to feel. Once, seemingly a very long time ago, he would have rejoiced at the news that he and Rose had created a new life together, but this was so wrong that it bordered on the obscene. Thunderstruck, he was reminded of the Dalek Emperor's description of the Bad Wolf—Abomination. It suddenly seemed to fit.

As the tense silence stretched, Brax thankfully intervened. "Now that we have a sample of the biological mother's DNA, we can clone it, combine it with the Doctor's, and configure it to perfectly match Owen's own stem cells. The cure is still valid; it will simply take a few more hours to prepare."

It was as if the room sighed. The relief was palpable, and the Doctor and Jack grinned, although Melissa's expression didn't change. "How long?"

"Another day for Owen to stabilize. I should be able to create enough stem cells by that time to begin the treatment. Then, it's just a matter of waiting."

"But, he'll be fine."

This time, Irving Braxiatel allowed himself to smile. He, like the Doctor and Jack, felt almost giddy with relief." "Yes, Emma, he will be fine. Besides, I made a promise to the Captain, and I always keep my promises."

Catching the double meaning of his assurance, she broke out into a small smile of her own. But, it was quickly replaced by pure, unadulterated rage. "Good, because I will not tolerate failure in this. He is my son, and Pain be unleashed upon the person who thinks otherwise."

Her bond brother was suddenly very grateful there was no possibility of failure. She had invoked one of the ancient deities of Gallifrey, and that was never done lightly. He excused himself to formulate Owen's cure with the utmost speed.


	34. Of Course He's Our Son

Author's Notes - First, this chapter is a definite T rating because of a sex scene between Jack and Melissa. I wasn't able to skip it because of its importance to the character's mental state, but I did edit the more graphic descriptions from the original. If you've read The Emissary and have gotten this far in Careless Benevolence, I don't think it will be offensive to you.

And, apologies for the cliffhanger. Sometimes, it's necessary. Thanks to **uzumaki misaki** and **TheGirlWiththeOnyxRose** for giving me feedback on the previous chapter. Hope you enjoy!

* * *

><p>Smearing Hope's blood onto the glass slide, Melissa had to fight against trembling. She could no longer be certain of anything. Forcing herself to remain outwardly passive, her stomach clenched as she studied the triple stranded DNA pattern before her. Astonished, she again viewed the other samples just to be sure, but there was no mistake, and no other way to interpret the results. This time, she couldn't keep the shock off her face.<p>

"What is it? Em, please. Whatever it is, it will be better if we all know."

The Doctor's impassioned plea brought her to her senses. "Hope is ours," she announced with awe. "All three of us. Jack's DNA has somehow been extrapolated to mimic a Time Lord's, yet it's still recognizable as his. Hope has a mother and two fathers."

"Just like Owen," the Captain announced decisively. "I told you when you accepted the pregnancy that I didn't care who the biological father was of either child. Sure, when it was one of each, we all just assumed, but I didn't care then, and I don't care now. Being a parent isn't an act of biology. Believe me, I know. You are Owen's mother in every way that matters, and don't you dare ever think otherwise. Hell, you sacrificed one of your lives to carry him, Sweetheart. If that doesn't make him yours, I don't know what does."

She felt the tears threatening to burst through the carefully built damn she had created to block her emotions. Jack felt the same way about Owen as she did. It didn't matter whose DNA had been used to create him. Then, she looked at the Doctor. He didn't appear to have come to the same conclusion. Her mask slammed firmly back in place.

"You disagree, Beloved?"

"I wish it were that simple, Emma. I believe the Captain's failing to take one thing into consideration."

She did not appreciate being forced to acknowledge the elephant in the room. Although her voice was abnormally shaky, she coldly dismissed his concerns. "There's nothing to suggest that the Bad Wolf is going to intervene in our lives ever again. If she had wanted to take Owen away, she could have done so at birth. And, if her intention was that we nobly give our child away, then she has made a gross miscalculation."

"Emma—"

"Don't you dare say it—not one word. Owen is our son. Don't you dare say otherwise."

He opened his mouth to do just that. He loved Owen, no matter who his mother was. He couldn't deny it. Yet, while he might technically be the child's father, they all knew better. No doubt Owen was the son of his doppelganger, the man created from his very flesh, the man created to give Rose Tyler her forever. And now, the Bad Wolf had made a child in their image.

How much more would it hurt to love the boy as their own only to have him snatched away by a force they could not control? Wouldn't it be better to bow to the inevitable and take him to Pete's World themselves? Wasn't that the right thing to do?

Then, he saw the way Jack held their wife, as if to protect her from his reply, and he snapped his jaw shut. She had already been forced to grieve for far too many of her children. How could he demand she give up another? Jack was right. She was Owen's mother in all ways that mattered, and they were his family. The Bad Wolf had made a cruel mistake, but for once, he would not allow her to suffer the consequences.

"Of course he's our son."

* * *

><p>Melissa sat by Owen's bedside, counting the minutes until he woke. The treatment had been successful, and the latest medical scan had shown no cancer cells in his body. When Healer Galan had announced the news only an hour ago, she thought she might cry with joy, but she hadn't. Over the last few days, she'd become so used to hiding her feelings that she wasn't sure she could cry anymore.<p>

Finally, she was alone with her son. The Doctor and Jack were with Hope, explaining exactly what had been wrong with Owen and reassuring her that he would make a complete recovery. The issue of the boy's parentage would not be discussed; the less people who knew the complicated truth the better. Nor would their daughter be informed that Jack was also her biological father. That could not be explained without mentioning the Bad Wolf, a topic taboo now more than ever.

As she mentally planned the promised picnic by the waterfall, she heard a quiet knock on the door. Assuming it was Jack or the Doctor, she didn't bother to turn around.

"It's open."

"I am sorry for your pain, my Lady."

She regarded the Arcadian cautiously. There was no good reason for her to be there. She had declined Owen's birthday invitation just as she had declined all invitations to visit the estate. In fact, she'd had no direct contact with them since the naming ceremony all those months ago.

"You knew, didn't you? You told us that Hope was ours by bond, blood and birth. You knew she was Jack's child just as much as mine or the Doctor's. Why didn't you say?"

Reaching out to stroke Owen's back, the tiny seer in the black robes smiled. "I did say. You did not listen."

"We didn't understand," she retorted, her patience worn thin.

Imperiously, the Elder turned to face her. "And, if I had explained the exact nature of your daughter's parentage, what would you have done?"

Startled by her unexpected reproach, Melissa pondered the question. "We would have investigated Owen's parentage as well, hoping that he, too, shared all of our blood."

She rapidly followed that train of thought to its logical conclusion. "I apologize, Elder, and I thank you. If we had known our son's origins from birth, he might not have remained our son at all. I love him too much now to ever contemplate that."

Composed once again, the young-seeming girl nodded. "I came here to repeat a warning I gave you the night you escaped certain death. The Bad Wolf will not so easily let go of her servant. But all is not lost. If those who care for you are brave enough, it can be done."

"And Owen?"

Looking down at her black boots peeking out from her robes because she couldn't face the fear in Melissa's eyes, the Arcadian answered somberly. "It is not wise to know one's future. Too much of yours is exposed already. I shall not add to your burden by speaking of your son."

In his sleep, the little boy put his thumb in his mouth, sucking it for comfort. They both watched with indulgent smiles of affection.

"Is he my son?"

This time, the Arcadian met her eyes. Again, the Time Lord was pointedly reminded of the fact that the girl was a child in appearance only.

"By birth and bond, certainly."

"Is that enough?"

The Elder put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "You don't need the advice of a seer to know what is written on your hearts."

A heavy weight seemed to lift from her chest. "No, I suppose I don't. Thank you again, Elder."

"You are most welcome, my Lady."

Without fanfare, the seer left. Belatedly, Melissa realized that she hadn't even inquired about the wellbeing of the Arcadian people. She wasn't normally so rude. Vowing to rectify the situation once Owen had regained his strength, she went back to her vigil.

* * *

><p>Troubled about the future of the woman she admired so deeply, the Arcadian walked towards an imposing set of doors in the heart of the Citadel. Determined, she rapped loudly on the entrance to the private chambers of one of the most powerful men on the planet. Pushing her way inside, she spoke without preamble.<p>

"You have set forces in motion that would be detrimental to your family during a critical juncture. Although your motives are honorable, I ask that you postpone this line of inquiry."

Irving Braxiatel gazed at the seer with undisguised curiosity. Arcadians were not known for sharing information, although it seemed that this particular one took exception to that rule where his bond sister and family were concerned. Still, he decided to contest her counsel. He hoped to anger her enough to hear concrete information rather than cryptic warnings.

"Don't you think he deserves to have those memories back? Surely he has proven his worthiness by now. I am not too proud to admit that I made a mistake."

Knowing exactly what he was trying to achieve, she repressed a smirk. Time Lords could be so arrogant, and this particular Time Lord was more arrogant than most. She would pretend to fall for his clumsy trap in order to impress upon him the danger.

"It will be impossible for your brother and his family to successfully challenge the Bad Wolf if they must simultaneously defend themselves against those who would presume to reign from Tempus Tor. I can promise you that the Knight Protector will one day know his true worth, but today is not that day."

"And, I would think the idiots who presume to possess Tempus Tor would be beneath your notice."

No matter what game the two were playing, his comment struck a nerve. She decided to go for the kill. "You mock them, and yet during the Time War, they were able to deliver the code to Gallifrey's transduction barrier to the Daleks."

Brax stilled his body as his mind raced. This was his worst nightmare come to life. He had gone to great lengths to ensure no one ever discovered the circumstances of their planet's betrayal. "It wasn't her fault. She had been tortured for months. She thought she had been abandoned. You can't hold her responsible for her actions."

The robed figure regarded him with obvious disappointment. "You presume too much. It is your greatest failing. In your haste to protect your bond sister, you committed a grave injustice."

Forgetting how dangerous it could be to cross a seer, he lost his temper. "Spare me your condemnation. My methods might be abhorrent to you, but I regret nothing. I did everything to save her from the crushing shame of failure."

"You did nothing of the sort. The only thing you accomplished was to throw her to the Wolf! Do you not understand the role of the Knight Protector? You egotistical, proud idiot! If you had given her the chance to explain or had looked at her memories before you locked them away, you would know that she was not the one who betrayed Gallifrey to the Daleks."

Irving Braxiatel blanched. He did not want to believe her words, but it was a well-known fact that Arcadians were incapable of lying. His voice suddenly was far from arrogant; in fact, it was broken. "She told me herself that she had betrayed our people."

She had crossed a line, and she knew it, even if he did not. Seers could not be this blunt. Forcing such a powerful man to acknowledge his mistakes could have grave consequences for the Web of Time. Stiffly, she bowed before him.

"My apologies, my Lord. I should not have burdened you with such knowledge. My esteem for the Emissary has clouded my judgment. It is in the past, and there is no need for remorse. As you say, you acted with her best interest at heart, an admirable quality in a bond brother. Your attempts to return the Captain's memories are just as admirable, but I do ask that you postpone such an endeavor."

Brax was too stunned by her revelation to reply coherently. "She said she betrayed us."

Knowing this line of reasoning could go down the wrong path very quickly, the Elder began to walk towards the door. "There are many forms of betrayal, Lord Braxiatel, and I beg of you to abandon this quest for now."

"Yes, of course," he stammered. Arcadians did not beg—ever. To go against such a request would be unnecessarily foolish.

Tranquil once again, the seer left his quarters without bidding him a good day. Brax wished he had her sangfroid. He sat weakly on his sofa, his stomach churning as he reconsidered his actions of long ago.

* * *

><p>"Sweetheart, that's enough icing to frost a cake the size of Stonehenge. Please tell me this isn't all for the picnic."<p>

Kissing Melissa, Jack licked a stray bit of chocolate icing at the corner of her mouth before she could answer. Then, he provocatively whispered in her ear. "You could save some, you know. I bet the Doc would like that as much as chocolate fondue."

Running her finger around the bowl, she popped it into his mouth. "If I remember correctly, and I always do, the Doctor had his turn. I think the choice would be up to you."

"Mmm." Sucking the confectionary from her finger, he decided rather quickly that it wasn't the chocolate that mattered. "My choice is you, unadorned. I prefer the taste of you to the taste of sugar, any time."

His answer sent a flash of heat straight to her core, and her voice turned husky. "Who am I to question your taste?"

He was very pleased she saw it his way. Ever since they had returned from the Citadel three days ago, she had been frightfully industrious, as if she needed to earn her title as mother now. She cooked, giving Berxie fits. She cleaned, upsetting the maids who feared that she had found their services lacking. And, when she wasn't performing tasks that fell under the responsibilities of the staff, she smothered her children with attention to the point that her daughter had finally begged for a few hours of solitude.

Nibbling on her ear, Jack hoped she would allow herself to finally relax. Berxie could finish the damn cake. "Good, I choose now."

"The picnic—"

"Is tomorrow. Brax and Flavia have meetings scheduled today, remember?

"But, the children—"

"Are with the Doctor. He and Hope are setting up a wooden train set in the nursery for Owen."

She dutifully attempted to find another reason why taking a break would be a bad idea, but it was impossible to think while Jack made love to her ear.

"The kitchen—"

"Might not be the best place," he agreed with a breathy whisper.

Refusing to take his lips off her skin, he guided her towards the conservatory. The palmetto trees she had imported from Earth were dense enough to conceal their presence from the garden, and the lambs' wool grass imported from New New New Zealand would make a decent substitute for a bed.

Kicking off her sandals, Melissa sank to the soft ground, pulling Jack down with her. She heartily approved of his choice of location. Overcast, the filtered sun warmed the room without turning it into an oppressive jungle.

As eager as she was, it was vexing to discover that no matter how much Jack lavished his attentions upon her, she could not completely relax. Her troubled thoughts flew like a whirlwind, abruptly changing directions and dying out only to be replaced by an entirely different concern. Even the location was proving to be a distraction. She found herself critically studying the orchids that grew among the smaller trees, wondering how to extend their blooms.

It didn't take long for him to understand. Determinedly, he flipped her onto her stomach, pressing his hands into her back as he slowly worked the tightness out of her muscles. When he finished, he moved to her legs, giving her the same deep massage. As her tension slowly melted, all she could do was wonder why he hadn't done this to her before.

"By the Other, this feels amazing."

She hadn't realized she had spoken out loud until she heard him chuckle. "I'll take that as a compliment, even though I don't have a clue who you invoked. Sounds better than hearing 'by Rassilon' all the time, anyway."

She thought of telling him the history of the mysterious Other, but his fingers had moved to her temples, and she found herself calming even further. This time, her expression of approval was little more than a groan of pleasure.

Encouraged by her reaction, he lay down beside her so his nimble fingers could explore further. Eyes closed, she practically purred, delighted to feel the warmth of his flesh against hers.

"Jack?"

"Yes?"

"I love you."

"How could you not?" he teased as he languidly trailed his fingers down her body.

She tingled with anticipation as desire shot through her. There were no distracting thoughts plaguing her this time as he brought her to the edge of bliss. Entering her mind, Jack soothed her spirit as he stoked her body, finding the duality of her responses strangely satisfying. Their minds embraced tenderly while their flesh throbbed with tempestuous passion.

She came with a strangled cry, the damn she had created for her pent up emotions crumbling with her physical release. He held her quietly as tears slipped down her cheeks, thankful that she had allowed him to witness her vulnerability. She did her best to conceal weakness of any sort in this regeneration, but that didn't mean her emotions were any less acute.

"The worst is over, Sweetheart."

Having cried herself out, she was too drained to respond verbally. It was a relief to have let loose her fears; everything seemed so much more manageable in Jack's arms—it always did. Gradually, she regained her equilibrium, and her pale eyes danced with unabashed delight as she traced the fading scars on his leg.

"Sweetie, that was exactly what I needed."

Jack grinned, his expression quite smug. "I aim to please."

Pressing a kiss against her stomach, he stood to offer her a hand up. "How about we get dressed and take a walk to the waterfall? I don't know about you, but I could go for a swim."

This time, she didn't protest that she had other responsibilities. Nor did she give more than a passing thought to her children or the Doctor. Instead, she took his hand, only one thought in her mind. "That sounds like a perfectly wonderful plan."

* * *

><p>The promised picnic came and went, and many others followed. Hope celebrated her first birthday with her extended family, but her parents resisted all suggestions that a larger celebration be held in the Citadel. While their daughter understood that she was the first child born on Gallifrey since the end of the war, she did not understand her significance as a symbol to the Time Lord race. In no uncertain terms would the Doctor, Jack or Melissa allow some idiot from the Council to prematurely burden her with such knowledge. Therefore, her birthday was a more intimate celebration than her brother's, but no less a festive one.<p>

Sitting quietly at her desk the night after her party, Hope added the colored vinegar to the baking soda volcano that Auntie Martha and Uncle Mickey had given her. It fizzed and bubbled and spilled over the plastic dome quite nicely, although she wondered why they had picked such a simple project. It was only logical that the sodium bicarbonate in the baking soda would react to the acetic acid in the vinegar, and the process did not mimic the progression of an actual volcano at all. She knew of several other reactions that were much more exciting to watch, but Father had taken away her more interesting chemicals after she had shown a penchant for performing rather dramatic combustible experiments.

Sighing, she sorted through her presents, searching for a new form of entertainment. Auntie Sarah had given her a set of oil pastels and a pad of stiff drawing paper. Licking the colors experimentally, she decided it was a very nice set; there was definitely more pigment than wax in the sticks.

She had overheard her mother telling Lady Flavia that Daddy had grown up in a desert near a vast ocean. She promptly decided to draw a picture for him, using her imagination to supply the scenery. She made the sky a deep russet, and the sand a brilliant black. The water would be a vibrant blue, to match her Daddy's eyes. Just as she had decided to add some water creatures to the scene, she heard Owen crying in the nursery.

She held the black stick absently in her hand as she strained to listen. By the sound of his cries, she knew that he was cross and scared. Her brother's crankiness was nothing new, especially when he woke from a nap, but he was seldom frightened. Curious, she unthinkingly dropped the oil pastel on the floor and ran to the nursery to see what was wrong.

As Owen's cries turned to screams, Hope rushed into the room without a thought for her own safety. Her brother had somehow managed to climb out of his cot, and was now cowering underneath, clutching his tie-dyed blanket as a glowing lady reached out to him. When she added her shriek to her brother's, the scary thing in the room turned her attention towards her.

Petrified, Hope began to back slowly away, as one might do when meeting an annoyed bear. After a few steps, she bumped against her mother's legs.

"Run, Hope," Melissa hissed as she picked up the child by the armpits and practically flung her into the hall. "Find your fathers!"

Stumbling a few steps, the little Time Lord raced down the hall towards her fathers' laboratory, hoping that her mother would protect Owen from the lady who burned so brightly that her eyes hurt after gazing upon her.

* * *

><p>Stepping into the nursery, Melissa addressed Owen as calmly as she could, temporarily ignoring the presence of the Bad Wolf. "It's going to be okay, little one. You stay right there while Mommy talks to the lady. Don't come out—"<p>

He ignored her instructions and scooted from underneath the cot to race towards her. Catching him in her arms, she pulled him to her chest, patting his back as she tried to think of a way to protect him from the very being to whom she had willingly pledged her allegiance all those years ago.

"You can't have him," she announced vehemently, knowing full well there was little she could do to stop her. "This isn't some kind of fairy tale and you need to stop playing God. Owen is my son. I carried him. I bore him. I love him. Me! Not Rose! And you can't have him!"

Her eyes blazing the Bad Wolf stretched out her hand. "My Emissary." The utterance was both a statement of ownership and an implied command, but Melissa refused to meekly accept her fate.

"I'm not yours. Not anymore."

Her defiance only served to anger her adversary. "You are tiny."

Taking a prudent step backwards, she turned in order to shield Owen with her body. His screams had turned to whimpers, and she took a second to comfort him before again facing the glowing visage of the Bad Wolf.

"I love him. He is my son in all ways that matter. Please, leave us alone."

A blinding light shot from the Bad Wolf's outstretched hand, enveloping the room. Melissa felt her arms being wrenched apart. When the black spots had cleared from her eyes, Owen was nowhere to be seen.

"I bring life."

There was an arrogant, triumphant sneer on the entity's face. The malevolent expression emphasized the fact that the creature standing before her was completely separate from the woman who had originally brought her into being. Rose Tyler would never be so cruel, or take so much pleasure in another's pain.

"Give me back my son!"

Desperate, the Time Lord grabbed the Bad Wolf's arm, ready to beg for Owen's life. As soon as she made contact with the great being, however, time paused. She was aware of everything and nothing as the sheer power of the Time Vortex coursed through her mind. It was immeasurably worse than facing the untempered schism, and she found her self-awareness slowly eroding as her consciousness was overwhelmed by the vast design of the boundless Web of Time.

Dismayed, Jack and the Doctor watched helplessly from the hallway as their bond mate unwillingly sank to her knees before the glowing caricature of a young Rose. Her pale green eyes began to glimmer as the Doctor pounded frantically on the invisible barrier that separated them. Abruptly, he pitched forward, finding the barrier had disappeared as well as their foe.

Running to their wife's side, they eased her to the ground. Although her eyes were wide open, she was insensible, and no entreaty could rouse her to awareness. Bracing themselves, they plunged into her mind, but they found merely an empty shell. Only the knowledge that their bond had not severed kept them from absolute despair. She was alive, somewhere, and they could only hope that she would have the strength to return to them on her own.

As the Doctor tersely contacted his brother, Jack sat heavily on the floor. All of a sudden, his weaker leg would not hold his weight, although it was his entire body that shook. Owen had been stolen. He had failed to protect the woman he loved. His daughter had been robbed of her mother. And, glancing at the Doctor, he was absolutely certain that the worst was yet to come.


	35. So Very Rose

Author's Notes - Believe it or not, this story is almost at the end. And, yes, it's another cliffhanger. Hope you enjoy! Thanks to **TheGirlWithTheOnyxRose** and **uzumaki misaki** for reviewing the last chapter. I'd really like some feedback on this one, so if you have a reaction, one way or the other, please let me know.

* * *

><p>Hours later, Melissa lay on a bed in the Citadel infirmary, nowhere nearer to consciousness than when she had been lying on the nursery floor. The healers had ascertained that her autonomic responses were within normal limits. However, they could give her bond mates no reason for her continued unconsciousness, nor could they begin to guess why the Doctor and Jack had been unable to contact her when they had searched her mind.<p>

Hope slept in the Doctor's arms. After what had happened, neither man wanted her out of their sight. They had both sunk into a morose stupor, hardly aware of the people who periodically flitted in and out of the room as they sat vigil at their wife's side.

When Brax walked in with the Arcadian hours later, they took no notice.

"This is no way to fight for her life."

Startled at the harsh admonishment, they stared in unison at the young seer. Jack was the first to recover his voice and his vitriol. "Yeah? Well I think it's a little late for that. And, don't you dare come in here acting sorry like it was something you couldn't prevent. You had to have seen this coming. Why else have you been avoiding us like the plague since Hope's naming ceremony? What the hell is the point of your visions if you can't do anything to prevent them?"

The Doctor spoke up dispiritedly. "Jack doesn't mean . . . ."

"Like hell I don't, Doc!"

At his tone, Hope blearily rubbed her eyes. The short figure encased in billowing black briefly touched the child's forehead to ease her into a deeper sleep before addressing the two men.

"You are wasting time, which will only prolong your son's ordeal. You know what you must do, so why aren't you doing it?"

When the Captain didn't respond much beyond a shrug, Brax wondered if he and his brother had already given up, but decided to give it one more try. "I think that's seer speak for get off your sorry arses and go confront the Bad Wolf. You told me time runs faster in this parallel dimension. You don't want Owen to remain there any longer than necessary, do you?"

The Doctor looked scathingly at his brother. "Don't you think we've thought of that? Even if we do manage to bring Owen home, the Bad Wolf will only take him back. He's a child, not some trophy to fight over!"

Exasperated, the Arcadian stamped her foot. "Then, you must ensure that the Bad Wolf never appears again. Her power might be infinite, but her existence is not. You know of that firsthand, Time Lord."

"You think we can kill the Bad Wolf?"

She blushed. "I would never presume to answer such a direct question, Lord Doctor. I simply mean to inform you that it is possible to wrest your bond mate from the Bad Wolf's control. If you do not, her soul will be lost forever to the Web of Time, and the boy will grow up knowing another mother."

"No pressure there," Jack muttered darkly, but his despair had been replaced by grim determination.

For some reason, his response elicited a smile from the seer. "Knight Protector, one day you will know your worth, but today know that your courage is adequate for the task. Remember, however, that you are not solely responsible for defending her."

"That's a roundabout way of saying to be careful," Brax remarked. "And, it applies to the both of you."

"Come with us," the Doctor offered impulsively. "Someone needs to care for Hope while we rescue Owen."

A very unwelcome presence discreetly coughed behind them. "Your daughter isn't going anywhere, Doctor. She is Gallifrey's future, not yours. And, if you attempt to take her away in that infernal junk heap you call a TARDIS, then I will immediately inform Chancellor Amathow of the details of her conception. You would all be locked up for aiding and abetting a temporal atrocity, and your daughter will be unmade."

Jack fumed. "I thought you said she was Gallifrey's future."

Glaring at them all, Galan sneered. "The little witch didn't say what type of future it would be. Maybe we'd all be better without it."

Brax tensed, his hands curling into fists. Gently, the seer tugged on his crimson tunic. "This onus falls to you. You have already given your word."

Understanding, he abruptly changed his demeanor. "Hope and I will stay, Doc. Someone should be here for Emma in case she wakes."

Wishing for once he knew what went on inside his brother's head, the Doctor nodded. "Galan, you've made your point, now leave."

After taking one look at the emotion behind the Doctor's eyes, the healer left. He might be avaricious, but he wasn't stupid. Already, he plotted how to use the situation to his advantage. It was obvious that Cardinal Braxiatel would go to any lengths imaginable to guarantee his continued silence. Perhaps he could negotiate a seat on the Council from him as payment for keeping his mouth shut.

As the loathsome healer made his exit, the Doctor gently placed Hope in Brax's arms. "Take care of her."

"I will," he answered soberly. "But, you two had better come back—with Owen, I might add."

Bending down, Jack kissed Melissa's forehead before replying. "Together, or not at all. Keep them both safe."

"With my life."

Searching his face, Jack found the assurance he needed. No matter what happened, Hope would be with family, and Melissa would be well cared for. Putting his arm around the Doctor's shoulder, he limped out of the tiny room, ready to fight to claim what was his.

* * *

><p>As soon as the Doctor had left the infirmary, Brax contacted Flavia, who arrived minutes later, frantic and out of breath. "What happened? Why didn't you inform me sooner?"<p>

He hadn't contacted her because it was not his place to do so, but her assistance was now necessary if the Doctor intended to access the Void in the same manner as before. "You must immediately return the battle TARDIS I borrowed to Brazil. Owen's life is at stake."

Glancing down at the still form of her friend, she swallowed her questions. Brax would tell her later if she needed to know. With her robes swirling behind her, she raced to do his bidding.

Letting out a sigh of relief, he resolved to show Flavia the proper appreciation as soon as the crisis had been resolved. For now, he had to ensure Galan's silence.

"Put the child next to her mother, and do what needs to be done."

Surprised, he looked down at the Arcadian. "Are you certain? Hope does not know who you are. She might be difficult to handle when she sees her mother's state."

"And she will be in mortal peril if Galan is allowed to make good on his threat. I think it is worth the potential difficulties."

He had to agree. He laid the child next to her mother on the narrow bed before retiring to his chambers to dress in his formal robes. He most certainly would have to do some groveling before the night was through, but he was determined to do so with his head held high.

* * *

><p>The Doctor danced around the TARDIS with the frightening mania of the recently unhinged. Jack was beginning to prefer his bond mate's previous melancholy. He winced as the Time Lord kicked and slapped and bumped against the console, brutally entering the coordinates necessary to rip the ship from its own dimension and propel it through the Void to another.<p>

As the Doctor spewed temporal theory pertaining to the speed of entropy of parallel dimensions, Jack couldn't stand it anymore. "Stop it! You can't take your frustration out on your ship!"

"Can't I?" he asked, his icy anger ready to explode.

"No you can't! "It's not as if the old girl . . . ."

He trailed off, suddenly understanding precisely why the Doctor was mistreating the TARDIS. "You can't," he implored in a much quieter voice. "It isn't her fault any more than Rose's. They were both trying to save your life."

"And you think my life is worth all this? I'd rather be dead and the Daleks victorious than watch her suffer!"

"Doc—"

He gave a last, vehement kick to his ship before bracing his arms against the console and dropping his head in defeat. "I can't bear it, Jack. I can't bear to see her like that."

Jack tenderly put his arm on the Doctor's back. "I can't either," he admitted softly. "That's why we're going to fix this, once and for all. We just have to have hope."

He slowly turned around, unabashedly resting his head on Jack's shoulder. "Isn't that my line?"

"Yeah, well, you aren't always the greatest at taking your own advice."

Straightening, he snorted, absentmindedly running his fingers in his unruly hair. "I don't know how we're going to do this. I can't think of a single plan that's going to work."

"Me neither, Doc, but our plans never seem to go right, anyway. Maybe it's time we wing it."

He ruefully agreed, and they landed briefly in the TARDIS nursery in Brazil to gather the necessary energy to cross the Void.

* * *

><p>Materializing on the grounds of the Tyler estate, Jack and the Doctor braced themselves, uncertain of what waited for them. If Owen had been sent to Rose and Fred, would they be forced to steal him back? Worse yet, what would they do if they didn't find Owen at all?<p>

Grimly, the both walked out of the TARDIS, only to be blindsided by Jackie Tyler's ferocious hug.

"Oh, you gave us such a fright! Your son appeared on our doorstep a week ago. Took you blooming long enough to get here!"

As both men clung to her out of sheer relief, she peered behind them. "Where's your wife, then? Is she home with your other one? And, what the hell were you doing, abandoning your little one without a by-your-leave? You didn't even tell us his name!"

Letting go of Rose's mother, the two men wildly embraced, clapping each other on the back in celebration before demanding to see their son. When Jackie informed them that Rose was feeding him lunch, both men started out at a run, although the Doctor soon outpaced the Captain. Careening into the kitchen, he plucked Owen from his chair, clutching him to his chest as he spun him in a tight circle.

"Hello, Owen! Miss me, much?"

Excited, the child squealed with excitement as he reached up to give his father's cheek a wet, sloppy kiss.

"He has been missing you. And he definitely can tell the difference between my Doctor an' you." Rose grinned, her eyes sparkling with delight as she watched the touching scene between father and son.

Belatedly, the Doctor looked at Rose, and took a sharp breath as he saw the radical changes in her appearance. She was smiling, her tongue peeking out from between her teeth just as always, but her once soft features were angular, and her hair was a short mass of kinky brown ringlets.

Unselfconsciously, she tugged at her hair. "Yeah, I know. It came back this way after the chemo. 'M glad it's came back at all, to tell you the truth."

He was precluded from responding by Jack's entrance. Leaning on his cane, the Captain's eyes swept the kitchen. Owen squiggled out of the Doctor's arms and toddled directly to Jack, shrieking "Daddy" the entire time. The child wrapped himself around his father's legs, and Jack carefully leaned over to pat him on the head, grinning from ear to ear.

"I missed you, little guy."

He looked up thankfully at the Doctor as he wearily sat in the chair his bond mate had pulled out for him. He hadn't slept in over a day, and his leg was bothering him more than it should. As soon as he sat down, he put Owen on his lap, giving him a proper hug.

Rose's smile drooped to a frown as she watched Jack move more like an old man than the dashing action hero of her memory. "Must'a been bad, whatever trouble you two've been up to."

Jack laughed away her concern, knowing her remarks were aimed at him. "Assassination attempt, almost two years ago now. Don't worry about it Rose, I don't. Besides, I could say the same about you. You shouldn't be that thin."

She shrugged. "I should be dead, so I'm definitely not goin' complain about being too thin. I've been in complete remission for ten months, and the Doctor said it shouldn't come back, although Dr. Harper insists on doing more tests before he'll clear me completely."

"Leukemia?"

"Something like," she acknowledged, wondering how the Doctor had guessed that.

The two men shared troubled looks. No doubt the cancer had been caused by her extended exposure to the Void. They had never asked how long she had used the dimension cannon to search for the Doctor when the stars had started to go out. Her long contact with Void radiation explained Owen's illness as well, since she was his biological mother.

Rose swallowed a hundred questions. Where were Melissa and their other child? Why had Owen appeared on their doorstep a week ago with no note of explanation? If she hadn't recognized his blanket, they wouldn't have even known who he was. And, why were two of her best mates suddenly uneasy in her presence?

Knowing the more difficult part of their trip had only begun, the Doctor self-consciously cleared his throat. "Rose, I think we should talk . . . ."

* * *

><p>"Bloody hell! Are you telling me that the child we've been caring for is my blooming grandson?"<p>

Rose tightly gripped her Doctor's hand, moving even closer to him on the sofa in the Tyler's elegant den. She should have known that her mother wouldn't be able to keep her mouth shut, although it looked like Pete wished she would. Jackie had been so very disappointed that the cancer had robbed her daughter of the chance for children of her own, and hearing that Owen was Rose and the Doctor's son had been a bit much.

"Mum," she pleaded. "We've got more important things to worry about right now, yeah? Like how to make sure Owen gets safely back home."

"But, Rose! He's your son!"

She replied hotly, her chin jutting out in defiance. "Leave it, Mum. He's not my son. He's Melissa's."

She had been sickened when the Doctor had gently explained what the Bad Wolf had done. Her memories of the Bad Wolf were vague at best, and certainly didn't include forcibly impregnating her dear friend with her own child. In fact, the only recollection she had while drunk on the power of the Time Vortex was bringing the Daleks to dust. When it had slipped out that she had been the one to make Jack immortal, she had wept, knowing how much he had suffered.

Jackie couldn't let it go. "Where's his mother, then? If she's so attached to him, why isn't she here?"

"Mum!"

As her Doctor reassuringly patted her thigh, Rose bit her lip. Melissa had not come up in their discussion at all, save to say that the other child born had been a girl, and Melissa was her biological mother. Her absence spoke volumes. Something was horribly wrong, and the grim expression on the Doctor and Jack's faces only confirmed her fear.

Swallowing her dread, she solemnly addressed the Doctor and Jack. "I know you're both trying to protect me, and I appreciate it, but you can't keep me in the dark anymore. What's happened to her?"

The Doctor harshly rubbed his forehead; he had hoped to spare her this pain. Leaning forward, he unconsciously took Jack's hand.

"We didn't drop Owen on your doorstep a week ago. The Bad Wolf did. Emma . . . Emma tried to stop her. It's not clear exactly what happened, but she's in an unresponsive state."

"No."

Rose's vehement protest was instinctive. Self-loathing overtook her in roiling waves. She was responsible for the Bad Wolf—every last despicable act. Running out of the room, she barely made it to the toilet before she started to heave.

When she had finally composed herself, she returned to a tense silence. Pete had left to take care of some urgent Torchwood business. Jackie had prudently withdrawn, sensing she might have made an arse out of herself otherwise. And, the two Doctor's appeared to be having a silent argument from across the room. Jack gave her a smile meant to reassure, but it didn't come close to reaching his eyes.

"It's not your fault, Rose."

"Be nice if I could believe that."

The Doctor added his affirmation to the Captain's. "It isn't. You only tried to help."

She snorted. "Doesn't sound like that to me. Sounds like I went and made a mess of things."

None of the men could meet her eyes, and she took a deep breath to steady herself. "Right. So, the way I see it, we got to figure out a way to get Owen back to his mother."

"You really feel that way?"

As relieved as he was, Jack couldn't keep the surprise out of his voice. After discovering that cancer had rendered her unable to have children, he had worried that she would not let Owen leave knowing he was her biological son. And, as much as he loved his little boy, he hadn't been looking forward to forcibly removing him from a woman he considered to be family.

Color tinged her cheeks. "What? Were you expecting me to take him away from the three of you? Did you get shot in the head, too, Jack Harkness? You and the Doctor and Melissa have been his parents from the start."

"Besides," Fred cut in softly, "When we knew we couldn't have children of our own, Rose and I agreed that it was a blessing in disguise. The Cyber War orphaned far too many, and they aren't always given the care they deserve. We thought it would be better to focus our attention on the ones already here than pining over what we can't have."

"He's right," she chimed in before they could raise additional questions. "We're making the best of it. It helps to be the Vitex heiress, and Pete's been generous. He sponsored the construction of a brand new home for the orphans living in London, and the Doctor and I visit several times a week. Usually, he helps the older ones with their homework, and I read to the younger ones, but we take them places, too—wherever we think they might have a little fun. Even Mum's gotten involved when she's not busy with Tony."

Neither the Doctor nor Jack was surprised by the couple's revelations. Rose was incredibly compassionate and possessed remarkable inner strength. If anyone could use their personal tragedy for the benefit of others, then it was her. Their respect for the two increased tenfold.

Reassured that they would not have to fight their friends in addition to the Bad Wolf, the Doctor and Jack relaxed. For a few hours, they all were able to pretend that nothing more was amiss, and they spent the time catching up on each other's lives. Most of the conversation was quite somber, but it definitely had its lighter moments as well.

Afterwards, Rose excused herself to talk to Jackie, a task for which no one envied her. Rose might not consider DNA to be a true measure of parenthood, but Jackie certainly seemed to. Fred hoped that their disagreement didn't lead to one of their infamous rows. After being married to Rose for nearly five years, he had found out the hard way that his wife was just as stubborn and outspoken at his mother-in-law.

When Jack dozed off while Fred explained all the reasons why Pete was likely to run for President of Great Britain in the next two years, the Doctor acknowledged that they wouldn't be returning home that night. The Captain was simply too worn out at that point to chance a confrontation with the Bad Wolf. Gently shaking him awake, the Time Lord suggested that his bond mate find an actual bed before his snores filled the den.

Much later, after the house was dark and quiet, the Doctor found Jack snoring softly in the same spacious guestroom that they had shared with their wife all those months ago. Owen was curled up beside him, his tie-dyed blanket clutched to his chest. Smiling indulgently, he decided that he, too, could use some shuteye. It would be soothing to pretend for a few hours that nothing more was amiss than one of their son's infrequent nightmares. The harsh light of morning, no doubt, would prove that otherwise.

* * *

><p>Jackie lavished attention on Owen that morning, knowing that it was her last chance to spend time with her grandson. She had begrudgingly accepted the need for the child to be with the family that had raised him, although that didn't mean she was pleased with the decision. Watching Jack and the Doctor interact with their son, however, finally convinced her that it was everyone's best interest.<p>

"I owe you two an apology," she admitted as they all sat down at the large mahogany dining room table to eat breakfast. "I was being selfish last night, only thinking about my Rose's happiness. It's obvious that boy adores you. I just wish there was some way for everybody to get what they want."

"Mum," Rose firmly interjected. "I have what I want. I've got the Doctor. Me and him don't need a child to be happy. If we did, we would have adopted one by now."

"Oh, Rose, I know you wanted children of your own."

She colored, pulling on her short curls. "Want doesn't get, Mum. Besides, most days, we've got fifty kids clamoring for our attention. And I love every one of them."

"Quite right, too." Fred took her hand, giving her a dazzling smile that made her grin happily in response.

The Doctor slathered marmalade on his toast as he observed his twin's devotion to Rose. Satisfied, he added his own apology. "I'm sorry as well, Jackie. We never intended to cause you pain. I'm sure the last few years have been difficult enough for you."

"We got through it, and we'll get through this, Doctor. How are you planning on getting home, though, if this Bad Wolf doesn't want to let you?"

"Since Rose has made it clear that she has no intention of claiming Owen, we hope that there won't be a problem with us leaving with him."

Pete scoffed. "Sounds like wishful thinking to me."

"Hopeful thinking," Jack amended, handing Owen an extra piece of sausage.

"Well, then," he responded sincerely, "I hope you're successful."

Standing up, he tossed his napkin on his chair. "If you'll excuse me, I have an early meeting with Dr. Sato this morning. The Rift Manipulator has been picking up some strange readings for the last week, and she's in London to brief me." Turning towards the Time Lord, he added, "Doctor, always a pleasure. If your wife wasn't ill, I'd invite you to tour the facilities, but I imagine you won't stay long enough to do that. I hope the next time we see you, it will be in happier circumstances."

With a brief nod, he was gone. Breakfast lengthened as Rose, Fred and Jackie realized that their guests would be leaving shortly afterwards. As an unobtrusive maid finally cleared the table, Rose decided to pack Owen's bag with everything they had bought for him in the last week.

Not quite understanding the hullabaloo, Tony said goodbye to the little boy and went to school. Jackie fussed over Owen's greasy face, leading him upstairs to brush his teeth. When Jack offered to help Rose pack, the Doctor found himself alone in the dining room with his twin.

"No one's asked you how you feel about all of this. You must know that Owen is as much your son as he is Rose's."

Fred began to pace. "I feel the same way she does. I know you think we're different, but I could never wish to cause Emma so much pain."

His expression of intense remorse gave the Doctor the abrupt impression of looking into a mirror. Perhaps they weren't so different after all.

"Is the cancer truly gone?"

The metacrisis Doctor stilled, running his fingers through his hair. "Yes, it took several rounds of chemotherapy, radiation therapy and a modified stem cell transplant, but she is free of the cancer. She should have a normal lifespan."

"She sacrificed so much . . . ."

"Yes, but this is Rose we're talking about. She would do it again and damn the consequences."

"Speaking of consequences, I don't suppose you have any ideas of how to defeat the Bad Wolf should she appear?"

"I suppose we'll just have to reason with her like we did before."

The Doctor snorted in derision. "Considering what she did to Emma, I don't think she's in a reasonable mood."

"Perhaps not," the other man agreed somberly.

* * *

><p>Holding onto his son's hand, Jack did his best to put the fear out of his mind as he, the Doctor, Rose and Fred walked calmly towards the TARDIS. With each step, he became more confident. They were going home, all three of them, and if he was a very lucky man, Melissa would be playing chess with Hope when they returned. They were only ten feet from the welcoming blue doors of the time ship when he realized with a sick sense of dismay that they had been deluding themselves all along.<p>

Owen gripped his left knee like it was an anchor as the lawn exploded in golden light. The Bad Wolf stood forbiddingly in front of the time ship, her entire body glowing with the raw power of Time. Everyone took a prudent three steps backwards.

The image of Rose frozen in her youth raised her hand towards the whimpering child.

"I bring life."

The Doctor immediately stood in front of his family. "You can't do this. You can't take our son and give him to another."

She gave the Doctor a feral smile. "But I can."

The same golden light that had heralded her return enveloped the frightened little boy. Jack clutched his arm tightly, but no matter how hard he gripped, he felt his son slipping through his fingers. With a blinding flash, Owen was deposited wailing in the center of the adults' impromptu circle. When Jack lunged for his son, he was struck down.

"Jack!"

Rushing his bond mate's side, the Doctor didn't register Rose and Fred's cries of outrage. Apprehensively, he checked Jack's vital signs. Only when he was sure that the Captain still drew breath did he stand to confront the Bad Wolf.

His eyes blazed with cold, icy anger. He had just one weapon against her—words. But, he was skilled in the art of verbal combat and used it to his best advantage. Standing only inches from her, he let loose his tongue.

"The Dalek Emperor called you an abomination. Are you trying to prove that true? Having the power to do something doesn't give you the right! You deceived me, whom you profess to love. You lied to the woman to whom I bound my hearts. You used the man you brought back to life for your own ends. You twist the power of Time itself to do your bidding, and it shall stop. I'm warning you, right here, right now; it shall stop."

The glow of the Vortex spilled from her eyes as they narrowed in anger. "You are tiny."

Suddenly, the Doctor felt as if his entire body was being compressed, and he sank unwillingly to his knees. He wondered if this is how his bond mate had felt in the instant before she had been lost to them. He didn't have long to wonder. The pressure on his body rapidly increased to the point where he saw stars in front of his eyes and promptly passed out.

The Bad Wolf immediately turned her attention to the man in the blue suit and red trainers. "I want you safe, my Doctor, protected from the false gods."

Briefly making eye contact, Fred wasn't sure how to appeal to her. This was not his Rose, save for her outward appearance. Still, he did the best he could.

"I know you're trying to help, but you went about it in the wrong way. You're hurting all of us. Let Owen go back with his true family. Release Emma. She is his mother. Rose and I are content."

For a moment, the Bad Wolf appeared vulnerable. "How can I let go of this? I can see everything. The sun, the moon, the day, the night—but why does it hurt?" Then, her vulnerability flickered and died to be replaced by resolve, and she attempted to grab her adversary.

"You leave him alone!"

Incensed, Rose pushed her husband out of the way. Standing before the Bad Wolf, Rose Marion Tyler gazed into what she could only describe as a fun house mirror. Everything was distorted. It wasn't the reflection of her expended youth that sickened her, but the absolute lack of humanity in those hauntingly familiar glowing eyes. She knew with every fiber of her being that there would be no quarter given by the power-crazed entity who shared her face.

Determined to save those she loved, Rose did the only thing she could. She grasped the Bad Wolf by the shoulders and fought her for control.

The instant she made contact, all hell broke loose.


	36. Sacrifice and Salvation

Here it is, the penultimate chapter. Although I had most of the story plotted out before I began to write it, this chapter took an unexpected turn. I'll have to admit that there was one character death I never saw coming. But, when I wrote it, it made sense. I hope you find the resolution satisfying. The last chapter will wrap up a few loose ends. Thanks so much to everyone who has taken the time to read my story. Oh, and as usual, any dialogue you recognize coming from the Bad Wolf is from Parting of the Ways, and there's a tiny snippet from School Reunion.

Thanks to **dwatlaskrhtcm**, **TheGirlWithTheOnyxRose** and **uzumaki misaki** for taking the time to review. Enjoy!

* * *

><p>Cardinal Irving Braxiatel rapped quietly on the door to the presidential quarters, reminding himself not to refer to the High Lord President as Bruno. This wasn't a social call and the request he was about to make did not lend itself to overfamiliarity. When he was given permission to enter, he took a deep breath and recalled that he had been conducting such transactions since before the President's birth. It didn't help. He was still as nervous as an eight year old standing before the untempered schism.<p>

He wore a veneer of condescending magnanimity on his homely face. Greeting the man before him, he bowed stiffly. "High Lord President, I believe I have a proposition that would be of benefit to both of us."

Lord Bruno gestured for him to sit; only his eyes betrayed his burning curiosity. "Cardinal Braxiatel, I did not expect to see you. Rumors are flying throughout the Citadel that your bond sister has been struck down and your brother has disappeared along with Captain Harkness and his son."

Brax cursed silently. He should have informed the President personally. "The rumors are true, High Lord President. The Doctor and Captain Harkness search for their son even as we speak.

"And the Emissary?"

He looked away. He had failed his bond sister so many times. How would her life have been different if he had not erased her memories? If he had opened her watch before sending her through the Void? If he had told his brother of his suspicions about Romana?

"She lives—for now."

If the young Time Lord had possessed hair on top of his head, no doubt his eyebrows would have disappeared. As it was, he considered his answer very carefully.

"Most regretful. Perhaps you would prefer to postpone this discussion, at least temporarily?"

"I would prefer not, High Lord President. My request is somewhat time sensitive."

"I see," he answered, although he didn't. "Then, it would be advisable to continue without delay."

Brax didn't bat an eye. He had no qualms asking for this particular favor. It was necessary to keep those he loved safe. Looking directly into the President's dark eyes, he said very distinctly, "I ask that Healer Galan be killed."

Bruno straightened in his chair, resting his hands stiffly on his desk. The request had blindsided him. From his time spent in the Matrix, he was well aware that such acts had routinely been committed in the past, but he hadn't received one request in the months he had been in office.

"Is this a personal or political request, Cardinal Braxiatel?"

"It is both, High Lord President. Healer Galan has threatened to make public information about one of his patients, information that would have far reaching consequences for the High Council. However, I would request the same merely for his insolence."

"I see." And this time Bruno did. There was only one patient that Brax could possibly care about at the moment. He certainly did not want anything controversial in regards to that particular patient coming to light, nor did he wish to know the details himself.

He permitted himself a small smile. The wily cardinal was right; this situation could be mutually beneficial. "I was wondering, Cardinal Braxiatel, if you had given any more thought to my proposal that you resume your duties as head of the Celestial Intervention Agency?"

Brax allowed himself to relax, stifling a smile of his own. This was going to be much easier than he had thought. Better yet, he wouldn't have to grovel. "There are certainly times when I miss the challenge, Lord President. As you well know, I resigned to spend more time with my brother and his family. However, I believe it would only be courteous to give you a chance to persuade me to return."

With that, the negotiations began in earnest.

* * *

><p>The ground shaking beneath her, Rose tightened her grip on the Bad Wolf. The golden light surrounding them had turned blinding white; it pierced like a knife through her clenched eyelids, seeking to slice through her mind. She could hear Owen's screams in the distance, but she could not spare a breath to shout for him to run as the chaos threatened to overwhelm her.<p>

Light and dark; day and night; heat and cold; sound and silence; all that could be and all that never was—it rolled off the Bad Wolf in devastating waves. Rose felt her grip on reality slipping as she fought against it. Inch by agonizing inch, she moved her fingers from her adversary's shoulder, up her neck, over her chin and onto her cheeks. Praying that her half-mad scheme would work, she dug her fingertips into the Wolf's face, forcing eye contact with the powerful being.

In the Bad Wolf's eyes, she saw every act the entity had ever committed and the justification for doing so. Tears ran unchecked down Rose's face as she recoiled from the truth. These had been her fears, her desires, taken to the absolute extreme. She had wanted those she loved safe and protected; she had wanted forever with a man who could not grant it; she had wanted a happily ever after in a universe where there was no such thing. And, she had unwittingly unleashed a monster to do just that.

There was only one way to vanquish this particular beast, only one sacrifice that would end it. Willingly, she embraced her fate as she embraced the Bad Wolf. The light flared once again, and in its wake, two figures became one. The power of the Time Vortex flowed once again through Rose Tyler's soul, and this time, she would not allow it to tempt her. This time, there was nothing to do but finish it.

Laboriously, the three men rose to their feet, taking in the sight before them. After the madness that had just occured, everything appeared oddly peaceful. No blade of the perfectly manicured grass was out of place; the sun shone on a beautiful, cloudless day. Owen slept tranquilly at the Bad Wolf's feet, but the entity no longer appeared as Rose had all those years ago. She wore black trousers and a white shirt; her hair was curly, dark and short; her features were angular rather than curvy. And her eyes, though they glowed with the power of Time itself, were infinitely sad.

Taking a step away from Owen, the Bad Wolf spoke. Her voice still echoed with the power she wielded, but it was warm, caring and so very Rose. "I can see everything. What I have done, and what I could yet do, and I renounce it."

Fred took a halting step forward. "Rose, it wasn't your fault."

She held up her hand, and he immediately stopped. "But, it is. I looked into the heart of the TARDIS, and the TARDIS looked into me. I created myself. But, everything must die, all things, including the Bad Wolf."

While she was distracted by her husband, the Doctor quietly approached. Before he could touch her, however, she retreated backwards a few more steps. "No, I want you safe, my Doctor, protected from the false god, protected from me."

"Rose, please, it doesn't have to end this way. Let us help you. Let **me** help you!"

Tears ran down her cheeks. "You can't. Pain and loss, they define us, Doctor. But, I won't allow the Bad Wolf to cause any more pain."

Jack crouched beside Owen, protecting the boy with his body. He wished he could stop her, but he wasn't even sure if it was the right thing to do. The Bad Wolf had inadvertently hurt him time and again, but he did not want Rose to pay the price. He called out from his heart.

"This isn't the way, Rose! All you're going to do is hurt more people! Think of Jackie! Tony!" He pointed to the devastated man in blue standing nearby. "Think of him! He's supposed to grow old with you! There has to be another way!"

With a choked sob, Rose retreated until her back was against the TARDIS. Although her voice was choked with tears, for a moment, she sounded completely like herself. "I'm sorry, Jack, but the Bad Wolf must die. The only way is for me to die with her. I won't allow the Doctor or anyone else to take that burden this time. This time, the only one to suffer is me."

When all three of them stepped forward, she again held out her hand, and they encountered the same invisible barrier that the Doctor and Jack had felt when Owen had been taken. Anguished, they watched as the golden glow around her flared.

"My head," she wailed. "It's killing me!"

Clutching the doorframe of the ship for support, she cried out in pain. Inexplicably, the doors to the TARDIS burst open, and Rose was momentarily silhouetted by the dark interior. Before even she could react, the vast power of the Time Vortex was pulled from her as if she were in the center of a mythic whirlpool. The golden light whirled into the ship, to be absorbed by the heart of the TARDIS with a concussive bang.

As the force field separating her from the others fell, she slipped to the ground, her face deathly pale and her heart racing. The Doctor stole an anxious glance at his ship before scooping her up and walking briskly towards the mansion. Fred was by his side, his expression dour.

Stunned by the abrupt turn of events, Jack sat bemused on the grass until Owen stirred. When he looked up at Jack with a sleepy grin on his face, it was apparent that the boy considered what he had witnessed to be nothing more than a bad dream. Attempting to act as normally as possible, Jack suggested they go find a snack in the kitchen, and the child gladly agreed. Hand in hand, they walked leisurely towards the Tyler home, Owen excitedly pointing out a grasshopper he spied near a bed of chrysanthemums. It seemed the dramatic events of the past few minutes hadn't affected him at all. Jack could only hope that Rose had fared the same.

* * *

><p>"Rose, Rose."<p>

Fred's soft entreaty was a caress against Rose's ear, and she smiled softly as she hovered between sleep and wakefulness. When he called her once more, her smile widened into a lazy grin.

"It better be Sunday, 'cause I'm not getting out of bed for anything."

"Rose, what's the last thing you remember?"

Her eyes flew open to study the identical men before her. "When did you get here?" she demanded of the Doctor. Abruptly, she flung off the covers and sat up. "Wait, I remember now. You and Jack came for Owen, but you weren't sure she'd let you leave. We were walking towards the TARDIS, and there was this singing . . . ."

The Doctor and Fred shared a long look as Rose wracked her brain for the memories she had lost. Gratefully, the Doctor ceded the explanations to his doppelganger. Fred was the one who would be with Rose day after day, so he left it to him to tell as much or as little of the truth he was comfortable with.

When her husband sat next to her, taking her hand, Rose kept her eyes downcast. She couldn't recall much, just like the last time. Terrified that the Bad Wolf had committed more selfish acts in her name, she waited anxiously for him to fill in the missing pieces of her memory.

"It's over. The Bad Wolf's gone, for good this time. Oh, Rose, you were so brave."

"I was?"

"Yes, you were," the Doctor concurred. "You were willing to sacrifice yourself for the rest of us. And, believe me, we're all very relieved that you didn't have to."

She dismissed thoughts of her self-sacrifice. She'd never been comfortable with that type of praise.

"She's really gone?"

"Oh, yes," Fred answered with enthusiasm. "From now on, she won't be able to interfere."

Pleased by his reassurance, she couldn't help but feel slightly befuddled by everything that had taken place. "What I don't understand, is how she was able to do all those other things in the first place. When you took the power out of me, didn't that end her?"

"Of course not," the Doctor replied, looking at her in that overly kind, slightly condescending way he had when he knew the explanation was going to be beyond a stupid ape's understanding. She suppressed her urge to giggle. She had missed this bit. Her Doctor had learned quickly that such behavior didn't often endear him to her, but now it made her feel oddly nostalgic.

Oblivious to her inner thoughts, the Doctor enthusiastically continued his lecture. "The Bad Wolf had the power of the Time Vortex running through her. Therefore, she had the power to exist at all points in time simultaneously. On the Game Station, you didn't renounce the power flowing within you; I kissed you to pull it into me. So, technically, the Bad Wolf was free to act at every other point in time, and she took full advantage. Today, you renounced the power of the Bad Wolf along with everything she might do in the future. That ended her permanently."

Fred colored while he watched Rose's reaction. He could tell that the rest of the Doctor's explanation had barely registered as she had finally learned of the kiss. That one, perfect kiss he had bestowed upon her in his ninth body. The sweet taste of her lips mingled with the raw power of Time. Yes, that had been worth dying for.

Belatedly, Rose realized the Doctor had finished his explanation and was patiently waiting for her to say something. Since she hadn't paid too much attention to his reasoning, she really didn't understand any better than she had before. Still, she did her best to sound relatively coherent while she caressed her Doctor's hand. They had a lot to talk about later, not the least of which was why he hadn't ever told her about the kiss. It would have been nice to know he had felt that way about her all those years ago.

"That's all well and good, Doctor, but how do you know she hasn't done something already that you don't know about?"

"Because you ended her, Rose. While she could act in every point in time, she still existed linearly."

For a moment, she considered his explanation. Her mind could almost wrap around it, but every time she thought she understood, a new question would arise that made her realize she didn't. With a mischievous grin, she finally said, "Don't understand a word of it, but I believe you. So, Owen's safe now, yeah?"

"Yes, he's safe, thanks to you."

"And Melissa'll be fine, then?"

A guarded expression stole over his features, but she was too aware of Fred's leg pressed against hers to notice. "The Bad Wolf can't interfere with her life ever again. She's no longer her emissary."

Her reply was optimistic as she patted him on the arm. "Well, all's well that ends well, least according to Mum. Speaking of Mum, I bet she's going spare. How long have I been out of it anyway?"

"Less than an hour," he assured her. Then, affixing a mask of geniality on his face, he stood up and grinned. "Jack, Owen and I better be off. Don't want to keep everyone at home in suspense."

Rose expressed her disappointment, but understood the reason given for their quick exit. She was astonished when her Doctor asked if they needed some assistance piloting the TARDIS through the Void, but after a few seconds' pause, the Doctor jovially announced that he had managed to get to Pete's World by himself, and would no doubt be able to return without further incident. Fred looked skeptical and surprisingly worried. Rose might have thought more of it if Jackie hadn't been lurking outside the bedroom door, waiting to pounce on her the moment she woke.

Retrieving Jack and Owen from the den, the Doctor practically raced out of the Tyler home in his keenness to leave. The hugs were disappointingly brief in Rose's opinion, and Jackie would complain for years that the Doctor had been exceedingly rude when he hadn't given her extra time to cuddle with her grandson. Even the Captain thought his bond mate's behavior strange, but he limped behind as quickly as he could, blaming the Doctor's haste on his desire to reunite with Melissa.

As soon as he crossed the threshold of the TARDIS, however, Jack knew something was amiss. The Doctor input coordinates as quickly as he could, Owen seemingly forgotten underneath the jump seat. His eyes were watery, and he spoke tenderly to his ship as he spun and twisted her dials.

"You really are amazing, old girl. I can't thank you enough. I'll always remember. You were my home as much as my ship."

Although the Doctor spoke to the TARDIS all the time, Jack thought his speech more than a little odd. "What's wrong, Doc? Why are you talking like that?"

For a moment, he didn't respond, save a brusque, "Keep hold of Owen. The ride's going to be bumpier than normal." But then, he faced his bond mate, allowing him to see the depth of his sorrow and regret.

"It had to be one of them, Jack. They were both part of the Bad Wolf. For her to truly die, one of them had to make a sacrifice. In the end, the old girl couldn't stand to see Rose in pain, although in some ways this hurts so much more. For so long, she was all I had."

As they pierced the Void, the ship began to shudder violently. Pieces of coral tore loose to land against the grating. As he protected Owen from the worst of the falling debris, he feared none of them would make it home. "What are you saying, Doc?"

Seemingly oblivious to the chaos around him, the Doctor stroked the console, comforting his ship and encouraging her to go just a little farther. "She's dying, Captain. The only way to stop the Bad Wolf was for one of them to die."

Jack was too busy shielding Owen to reply. Soon, even the Doctor could not keep on his feet as they were pitched and thrown about the room. After what seemed like ages, the TARDIS landed with a thud. The Time Lord popped to his feet, staring at the sparking time rotor with obvious distress.

"RUN!"

They ran, the Doctor half dragging Jack in his rush to put some distance between them and his dying ship. It was night, but the moon was bright enough to illuminate the TARDIS nursery in Brazil. Scrambling up the hill, they paused when they reached the top, calming Owen and watching the valley below with no little amount of apprehension.

They'd barely caught their breath when a wave of immense energy burst from the expiring ship. The nursery rippled in a haze of power, transmuting into an incredible sight. The rows of growing coral transformed into full grown TARDISes, complete with outer shells. The straight rows now resembled a checkerboard, as black Battle TARDISes evenly interspersed with white-columned time ships meant for peaceful exploration. And, in the very center, gleaming in the moonlight, stood a single blue, shiny new police box.

Jack felt like his breath had been stolen as he looked upon the valley. "Wow," was all he could manage to whisper.

The Doctor nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Wow indeed.

* * *

><p>Melissa had only a vague sense of self as she became more and more enthralled by the Web of Time. She saw the pattern in coincidence and the randomness of fate. She watched civilizations rise and fall and then rise again. Planets burned; galaxies were born; and the universe expanded to reach its limitless capacity. Occasionally, she focused on one silken thread, observing birth and death and all the life in between on a more intimate level.<p>

Every once in a great while, such voyeurism reminded her of what she had been, and it saddened her to realize she would never be that again. But, soon, something equally intriguing would catch her attention, and her sadness would evaporate until she had no emotion left. It was an exhilarating reality, but nothing stayed in her mind for long as her consciousness spread so thin that she could barely remember existing at all.

It came as a complete shock then, when an insistent force rippled over the great Web, shaking her free to drift in an inky nothingness. Emotions once again washed over her—panic, fear, aching loneliness—as she understood that she was lost with no means of return. And then, she heard the singing.

It was hauntingly beautiful and infuriatingly familiar. It beckoned to her, and she answered its call, focusing her whole self to follow the sublime music. As the song grew louder, the more she remembered, until she could picture in her mind's eye the image of herself lying motionless on a bed in the Citadel infirmary.

The TARDIS, she realized with growing awe. It was the Doctor's ship serenading her back to reality. Only, the song was so infinitely sad, so unlike what she had been privileged to hear before. Tentatively, she reached out; it was only then that she discerned the sacrifice that had been made.

Readily, she forgave the ship for the part she had played in creating the Bad Wolf, just as she had forgiven Rose years before. The mournful song gave way to one of hope and joy, ending on a crescendo of exultation. And, then, it was gone, never to return.

Melissa gradually became aware of her physical body. Her breaths were shallow, her hearts barely beating. Lassitude wrapped her limbs, and she found herself too exhausted to fight it. It did not matter; she was whole and finally free. Willingly, she allowed the darkness to take her, secure in the knowledge that it would be both restful and brief.

* * *

><p>The abrupt maturation of the TARDIS coral in Brazil created quite a stir. The twelve Time Lords whose duty it had been to oversee the nursery rushed out of their dormitory to find that their jobs had been rendered obsolete. Row upon row of mature TARDISes stood majestically in the shallow valley like a forest of black and white tree trunks. The only truly strange note to the inexplicable occurrence was the empty spot in the very center of the nursery. Not even the coral bud remained as evidence that anything had been planted there.<p>

Finally regaining their wits, they contacted the High Council, who was just as stunned as they had been. No one, however, was prepared to look a gift horse in the mouth. By morning, all four hundred eighty-one Battle TARDISes had been sent back to Gallifrey. It would take longer to choose the pilots for the remaining ships since they would be given the privilege of forming permanent bonds with their TARDIS. Within a week, however, the selections had been made, and four hundred eight-two teams of six Time Lords were sent out with the mission to explore all of time and space.

* * *

><p>"'Ope! 'Ope! 'Ope!"<p>

Catching sight of her brother and fathers at the end of the hall, Hope flew to their side, skidding to a stop in front of Owen and bending down to give him an exuberant hug.

"Owen! You're back!"

Suddenly remembering that they were in a public hallway in the middle of the Citadel, she straightened, her tone growing somewhat more reserved, although there was no way to keep the glee out of her voice. "I mean, it's good to see you. We were all very worried, but I see Father and Dad found you like they promised."

Looking up at the two men, she blushed, hoping they hadn't noticed her momentary lack of decorum. With a twinkle in his eye, the Doctor picked her up so he and Jack could pepper her with some highly undignified hugs and kisses.

"You've been spending too much time with your uncle, young lady. Being a good Time Lord does not mean being stiff and formal."

To prove his point, the Doctor tickled her until she shrieked with laughter. Several curious people popped out of various doors, but seeing the Doctor had returned safely with his bond mate and son, they all shook their heads indulgently and retreated back to their work.

Owen held out his arms to demand similar treatment. Jack plucked him from the ground, tickling him under his chin before tucking him on his hip to walk towards the infirmary wing. News of their appearance had preceded them, and Brax, dressed very formally in his scarlet robes, was standing somberly outside of Melissa's room, .

"She hasn't woken. When I heard you made it back, I ran to check, but she's as unresponsive as she was when you left sixteen hours ago."

The smiles the Doctor and Jack had worn since stealing a brand new TARDIS from the nursery immediately faded. They had both known it was a possibility that she would not recover from whatever punishment had been inflicted upon her. Rose had been able to stop future acts of the Bad Wolf, not change past ones.

Hope, who understood all too well what her uncle's words meant, tightly clung to the Doctor, burying her face into his neck as she cried softly. Owen was much too young to comprehend anything of the kind, so he stared curiously at his sister, secure in Jack's arms. Numbly, Jack handed him to Brax, refusing to believe that everything they had accomplished had been for naught.

Sitting beside Melissa, Jack played with her hair as he resisted the urge to do his best to shake her to wakefulness. He knew better than most that life wasn't fair, but losing her now seemed unnecessarily cruel. Pressing his lips to her forehead, he intended to say goodbye.

As soon as his skin met hers, however, he realized that he had not kissed an empty shell. Her consciousness was there, just below the surface, restrained by nothing more dangerous than ordinary sleep. With a playful sparkle in his deep blue eyes, he knew just what to do. Tenderly, he caressed her cheek.

"I think it's time to wake up now, Sleeping Beauty."

His lips found hers, and he teased her awake with a slow, sizzling kiss. As her eyes opened, he pulled away, his expression jubilant.

Sitting up, Melissa couldn't quite remember why she was in the infirmary. But, she quickly decided that she hadn't been woken so deliciously in quite a long time.

"Hello, Sweetie."

"Mummy!"

Hope didn't care at that moment whether she was a proper Time Lord. She was too happy to see her mother's eyes open. Clambering down the Doctor like he was nothing more than an inconvenient tree, she launched herself onto the bed, landing partially on Melissa's stomach. Her mother smiled through the unexpected jolt and happily took her daughter into her arms.

The narrow bed creaked as Owen and the Doctor elatedly joined the rest of their family. Brax watched the touching reunion for almost a minute before silently taking his leave. The scene he had witnessed justified every promise he had made to the High Lord President, and there would be plenty of time to be a part of their lives in the days and years to come. All in all, it was a most satisfactory conclusion.


	37. Fantastic

Author's Notes - This chapter ends the story on a happy note. I plan on writing a sequel to address the Library and a few loose ends, and I'm currently writing a prequel to The Emissary that explains Jack and Melissa's tangled timelines. With the holidays rapidly approaching, however, I probably won't start posting until the new year. I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed for their feedback and encouragement. Knowing people were reading the story helped me continue during a few rough patches. A special thank you to **uzumaki misaki** for reviewing the last chapter. I'll admit I expected more comments after killing the TARDIS! Hopefully everyone was out shopping on Friday, and the lack of reviews doesn't mean you hated the resolution. Hope you enjoy.

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><p>Not five minutes after reuniting with his wife, the Doctor impatiently rubbed his hands together. "Awake now, Em? I think it's high time we got home, don't you?"<p>

She gave him a long look, sensing he was anxious underneath his forced cheerfulness. However, she couldn't think of a single reason to remain in the Citadel any longer than necessary.

"Home sounds wonderful to me, Doctor. Jack, what do you think?"

Jack was already standing by the door. "I think you two are carrying the kids. Let's blow this gin joint."

At her hard stare, he replied innocently. "What? I did some work in Chicago during the Roaring Twenties."

"One of you is going to explain," she warned, but she didn't bother waiting for an answer. Instead, she put Owen in her arms and started towards the empty corridor.

With a conspiratorial grin, the Doctor whispered in Hope's ear that he had a special surprise. As soon she put her arms around his neck, he was out the door, his long strides outpacing his bond mates'.

When Melissa came to the end of yet another long, gray corridor and saw the TARDIS, her hearts lurched. It was like seeing a dear friend's daughter all grown up—she was filled with joy even as her eyes welled with tears.

"She's beautiful."

Stroking the pristine blue paint, she smiled poignantly at the Doctor. "She saved me, you know. I had lost myself to the Web of Time, and she sang me to my senses. Even when her song ended, I hoped that she had somehow managed to survive."

"She did—in nine hundred sixty-two new TARDISes. There's a little bit of the old girl in each one. Although, I have to admit, I rather think this one has more than her fair share. Come and meet her."

The interior of the ship reflected the new TARDIS' personality. The walls were papered with antique maps of every kind, broken periodically by rich, mahogany columns. The wood extended to the hexagonal console, which gave the impression of six narrow desks fused together. The time rotor was a long, neon green cylinder encased in frosted glass, and the various knobs and buttons that controlled the ship were fashioned from bits of brass and copper.

Hope stopped at the edge of the threshold, spellbound. "She's so pretty." Then, she took several halting steps towards the console, her right hand raised out in front of her. "And so lonely."

Her mother snatched her from her slow march towards the heart of the ship. Concerned, she looked down at Hope; the little girl frowned as she vainly attempted to free herself.

"You can hear that?"

When she nodded, Melissa and the Doctor became instantly troubled. Their daughter should not be able to hear that particular song at such a young age. The TARDIS sang a welcome and a heartfelt invitation, her need for companionship calling to all who could hear. She would continue to sing the enticing melody until she had bonded with her pilot.

"Doc, I think you better bond with her. Even I can hear that song. If you don't hurry, she'll end up being my ship."

He glanced at Jack to find him using his cane as a brace against the lure of the music. Briefly, he wished that the three of them could bond with the new TARDIS together, but he dismissed the idea as being much too selfish. Jack was human and Melissa lived under the threat of a predestination paradox. His bond mates' days were numbered, and it would be cruel to tie the ship to such heartache. It would be difficult enough for him.

"Right."

Standing in front of the console, he placed his hands flat on a wooden panel. His body was briefly bathed in a warm, golden light. Intrigued, Owen ran towards him, but Jack was able to grab the toddler before he could interfere with the bonding process. The young time ship's song gradually changed from one of longing to jubilation. Taking his hands away from the ship that would evermore be his TARDIS, the Doctor grinned like a child at Christmas.

"She's a beauty. Aren't you, young one?"

Electricity arced from the time rotor to the Doctor's hands, and he yelped in surprise. "Don't like references to your age? What would you have me call you, then?"

Melissa smirked. "Call her the new girl."

The console immediately started to spark. "I'll take that as a no, then."

"Call her Beauty, Daddy."

The ship hummed softly in approval of Hope's suggestion.

"Beauty it is," he agreed, inviting Hope to assist him as he input the coordinates for the estate.

The ship materialized in the same spot in the kitchen where the Doctor's former TARDIS was wont to do. A few people commented on the glossy paint, but no outsider ever guessed that the ship in which the Doctor now travelled was not the one he had stolen all those years ago. She appeared to be nothing more than a Type 40 TARDIS with a much needed overhaul. And, that was precisely the way her new family preferred.

* * *

><p>Smirking, Brax leaned against the doorframe to the spacious kitchen in his ancestral home. He watched unobserved while Melissa placed a batch of chocolate chip cookies in the oven she had imported from Earth. He thought the cheery red apron she wore over a pair of jeans and a black sweater was overdoing things a tad, but he kept that opinion to himself as he finally let his presence be known.<p>

"I have been sent to inform you that your insistence on baking is demoralizing the kitchen staff. Berxie would prefer you return to your formal duties on the High Council."

Turning to face him, she arched an eyebrow. "We can't have that. A shame, though, I was planning on baking a batch for you."

He laughed; the foreign sound that came from his throat was rich, deep and hearty. The pervading aroma of chocolate filled the air as he voiced his approval. "You know, that's the best bribery offer I've had all day."

She eyed his scarlet robes with veiled disappointment. Melissa had thought his time spent with them had convinced him to leave the High Council for good, but perhaps she had misjudged his contentment. After all, the Doctor's brother had been schooled in the fine art of intrigue and intimidation from a very young age.

After his turn at the untempered schism, Brax's announcement that he was destined to lead the CIA had virtually sealed his fate. He had been personally tutored by Borusa to become one of the most ruthless cardinals Gallifrey had ever known. Little wonder he'd grown bored of the valley, although she couldn't help but question his timing.

As he tried to swipe a cookie from the cooling rack, she promptly slapped his hand. "These aren't for you. I'm taking these to the Elder. She's done so much for us since the children were born, and I haven't thanked her properly."

He pouted theatrically, which looked absolutely ridiculous on his homely face. "One? Please? No doubt I've earned one cookie at some point."

She handed him a warm cookie, her voice playfully stern. "Well, you do make the children laugh. I suppose you're entitled to one."

Sinking his teeth into the gooey chocolate and sugary biscuit, he closed his eyes to better savor the moment. There were definitely things he missed about Earth, and food was number six on the list.

Speculatively eyeing another cookie, he offhandedly remarked, "Bruno sends his regards. The invitation to sit on the High Council is a sincere one. Oh, and I thought you'd like to know that Healer Galan was killed yesterday in a laboratory accident. His DNA sequencer exploded while he was standing next to it. There weren't many identifiable remains to recover, but it was enough to confirm his death. A shame, really, I'm afraid he wasn't found for some time. His consciousness was lost before he could be uploaded to the Matrix."

Her expression became closed as she considered his bombshell. His return as chief operative for the Celestial Intervention Agency now made perfect sense. "Here, have another cookie," she said woodenly as she considered how much it had cost him to arrange for Healer Galan's fortunate tragedy.

It didn't take him long to notice her upset. Eyeing a third cookie, he began to ramble. "I'm quite satisfied that I returned to the High Council when I did. Bruno is in desperate need of mentoring if he is to become an effective president. Who better than me to assist him? His negotiation skills, especially, are rubbish. I'm afraid he's quite the pushover, but I'm sure he'll improve now that I can offer my assistance. Besides, Flavia likes seeing me every day."

Relaxing, she gave him the third cookie. Even in the privacy of her home, it was too dangerous to speak plainly, but she rightly took his little speech as much needed reassurance. Whatever he had promised the High Lord President for his complicity, it had not been too steep.

"What did you expect?" she asked in an almost normal tone of voice. "Before becoming President, Bruno was just as ignorant as Jack when it came to Time Lord politics. I think he's doing a wonderful job, especially now that the brains behind the High Council has returned."

"I'm hardly the brains, Emma. I'm much more likely to be the loyal attack dog."

"Dogs aren't subtle enough to describe you, Brax. A cat, on the other hand . . . ."

"Someone mention a cat? I only ask because I don't like cats."

Melissa swiftly slapped the Doctor's hand as he attempted to take a cookie. "That's for the Elder. And, we were discussing what sort of animal best describes your brother's position on the Council. He mentioned a dog, but I think a cat's much more fitting."

"You're both wrong. Brax is obviously a fox."

His brother agreed. "Cunning, I like it. Besides, foxes are much better looking than cats."

Jack had entered the kitchen by that time and couldn't resist. "Speaking from personal experience? 'Cause I've got to tell you, I've had a few cat people in my time, and they can be quite charming. In fact, there was this time on New Earth with a tabby that . . . ."

"Spare me, Harkness. You can't have copulated with as many sentient species as you claim. Even with a Vortex Manipulator, it would take more years than you've been alive."

"Who said they had to be sentient?"

Brax actually groaned out loud. The Doctor managed to swipe a cookie while Melissa shook her head.

"We were discussing my bond brother's role on the High Council, not past sexual exploits, although I'm sure it's easy to confuse the two. Now, get out, all of you. And, take the cookies with you. I obviously overestimated your patience. Just be sure to share with Hope and Owen."

She had that tone in her voice—the overly indignant one that the Doctor and Jack had learned to instantly obey. There was no reason to risk Melissa's temper on such a fine day. They complied with alacrity, dumping the still-warm cookies into a sack before making themselves scarce.

Brax was swift on their heels until Melissa put a restraining hand on his arm. Curious, he turned to face her.

"Thank you. I shall sleep easier knowing you are on the High Council looking out for us.

"So shall I."

* * *

><p>"Elder?"<p>

With no little degree of trepidation, Melissa walked hesitantly into the beautiful space that represented the Arcadians' temporary seat of power on Gallifrey's Southern Sea. The tiled, marble edifice resembled a miniature Roman temple, and she wondered if the powerful seers had been more involved in Earth's development than anyone had ever suspected.

"Melissa, it is very good to see you."

Bowing slightly, she warmly greeted the Elder, who stood in the exact in middle of the structure, almost as if she had been waiting for her arrival. With a suppressed chuckle, Melissa realized that she must have been doing exactly that.

The young seer wore a simple black tunic over brown trousers, and her hair cascaded down her back. Her eyes twinkled merrily as she acknowledged her guest. In short, she looked more relaxed than the Time Lord had ever seen her.

"I brought chocolate chip cookies. I thought you might like them." She held up the tin in which she had packed the second batch of the chocolaty treat.

Gracefully, the Elder accepted her gift, opening the tin to take a cautious whiff. A smile stole over her face. "They smell wonderful. Thank you."

"What are friends for?"

The girl looked flummoxed by that simple statement. "You consider me your friend?"

"I would have hardly let you name my daughter if I didn't."

"I've never had a friend," the seer admitted shyly.

"Well, you do now."

She smiled broadly. Her own future had always been hidden. It seemed to be much better than she had ever imagined.

* * *

><p>"Come on, Jack! Only seven hundred more feet and you'll have a new story to tell."<p>

Looking at the ice crevasse in front of him, Jack suppressed a shudder. How the hell had he let the Doctor and Melissa convince him to climb Mt. Endeavor?

"It's the twelve thousand foot drop I'm worried about, Sweetheart."

The Doctor clapped him heartily on the back. "Don't worry, Captain. That crevasse can't be more than three hundred feet deep."

"Thanks, Doc. That makes me feel so much better."

Roped together, the three began the arduous final ascent to the peak of Mt. Endeavor. Jack hoped his crampons were fastened securely because he could no longer feel his feet. Even with the extra insulation built into his clothes, the cold was beginning to seep inside his skin.

Just as he thought they would be able to traverse the glacier without incident, he felt a sharp tug behind him and a muffled expletive. Digging in his heels and his ice axe, he stopped his own slide. Turning, he saw that Melissa had done the same, but the rope that tied her to the Doctor was taut and disappeared at the edge of the latest crevasse. Carefully, he inched towards her.

She was shouting for the Doctor, but the wind made it impossible to hear a response. Before either one of them could become properly terrified, the Doctor's head popped out of the hole and the rest of his body soon followed.

"Sorry," he said sheepishly. "Misjudged the edge on that one."

Brushing off the ice and snow that clung to his parka, he took off in the lead, practically dragging Melissa and Jack in his eagerness to continue. Turning around, he gave them a devilish grin.

"What are you two waiting for? Allons-y!"

They shared equal looks of irritation before placing themselves behind the Doctor. Step by carefully placed step, they came to the edge of the glacier. The rest of the climb was dull in comparison. Enough Time Lords had scaled the mountain for switchbacks to have been beaten into the snow-covered ground; there was little danger of plunging to a painful death. In another hour, they were standing on the pinnacle, looking down at the serene red valley below.

Exuberant, they embraced one another, scarcely believing their achievement.

"You are definitely burning your cane when we get back, Jack Harkness."

That thought warmed him to his toes, until he realized he would soon have to repeat the entire trek in reverse. Groaning, he leaned against a convenient boulder.

"I don't guess we can take the ski lift down?"

Wishing there was a ski lift, Melissa forced herself to be chipper for his sake. "What goes up must come down. At least you won't be working against gravity this time."

Smug, the Doctor took out a silver whistle. "You are more than welcome to go down by foot, if you wish. However, I thought we might enjoy a different method of descent."

As they watched in bemusement, he blew the whistle, although no sound could be heard. Soon, the summit was filled with a familiar mechanical wheezing, and the TARDIS appeared several feet away.

"Emergency Program Four," he explained proudly. "Calls the TARDIS to its pilot."

"Who's piloting the ship? Brax?"

The Doctor looked at Jack like he'd gone mental. "Why would anyone need to be inside the TARDIS for it to work? That would defeat the purpose of the emergency program, wouldn't it?"

Melissa snorted with amusement. No wonder the Doctor was so smug. He'd finally fixed the glitch in the program.

"Of course it would, Doc," Jack agreed dryly. "Don't know how I could have thought of something so stupid."

"Don't let it bother you, Captain. Not everyone can have my brilliance."

As they walked towards the ship, he added nonchalantly, "Did I happen to mention that this particular TARDIS comes equipped with a hot tub?"

"Fantastic!"

Melissa had to agree.

* * *

><p>Cocooned between the Doctor and Jack, Melissa couldn't sleep. Both men were worn out from a day of climbing and a night of passionate lovemaking, but she felt oddly alert. She briefly considered checking on Hope and Owen, but she didn't want to disturb her bond mates' rest. Staring at the ceiling, she resigned herself to a night of introspection.<p>

Owen had recently celebrated his second birthday and was becoming a very expressive little boy. Unfortunately, his favorite expression at the moment seemed to be 'no'. She'd never dealt with the terrible twos before. Susan and Matthew had fit much more into the defiant threes, and she could only hope this phase of Owen's disappeared as quickly as theirs had.

Hope posed an altogether different problem. Her intellect was poised to rival the Doctor's, but her caution had not developed at the same rate. They were constantly finding her conducting experiments that had the potential for catastrophe, or challenging herself physically in such a reckless manner that Jack now sported a few gray hairs.

Still, she wouldn't change a thing. For the first time in many years, she was truly content. Her children were a blessing, no matter the cost. Her relationship with the Doctor once again mirrored the incredible rapport they had shared before Athena's death. And, Jack's presence by her side made her feel complete in a way she had never thought possible.

She felt comfortable in her home, content to be nothing more than a mother and wife. Her duties as head of the household were not onerous, and there were many people that she counted as friend. Brax visited several times a week, still trying to entice her back to the High Council, but his invitations were perfunctory and easily ignored.

Even her nightmares of the Time War had finally lost their sting, although the guilt of what she had done would always remain. Rassilon and the Bad Wolf would forever haunt her dreams, but only the Library still held the power to frighten her. Secretly, she studied its history, wondering if there was a way to change her fate. Most of the time, however, she was content to live in the present, rather than the future or the past.

After several hours of similar thoughts, she noticed that Jack began to toss and turn. He finally settled, and she assumed he'd gone back to sleep until she felt his hands tighten against her waist.

"Not tired?"

"I should be," she admitted quietly. "I just can't seem to stop thinking."

One of his hands found her breasts and the other the base of her head. His tender strokes mesmerized, more soothing than provocative. Slowly, she felt her mind empty.

"Better?"

"With you? Always."

His hands gradually stilled, and again she thought him asleep until his troubled whisper broke the silence. "I can't stand the thought of you dying, Sweetheart."

"Jack, we're all going to die." Then, with a confident lilt in her voice, she added, "But, it won't be today."

Suddenly, she felt a pair of strong, warm arms wrapping around them both. "Everything ends, Captain—even this. A wise man once told me to grieve once it's gone, not before."

Jack relaxed. "That brother of yours is too smart for his own good, Doc. But, I guess this one time, his advice makes sense."

Seeking affirmation, they slipped deep into their bond to join as one. They shared their strength and joy with the firm belief that life would be fantastic for many years to come.

And it was.

-The End


End file.
